Cigarette Daydreams
by Nautical Paramour
Summary: Hermione was excited to meet her new downstairs neighbor, until he turns out to be an ex-convict intent on wooing her! Finding herself more exasperated than not, how can this former tough guy hope to break the ice? Modern AU. Rabastan x Hermione. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello everyone! Here is the first chapter of an expanded story I am working on. This started out as a tumblr prompt, and I thinking now it will be around 15 chapters in total. We'll see! I hope that you enjoy this modern AU. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter one and be on the lookout for chapter two soon!

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Hermione stared into her oven through the little glass window, watching the cookies baking away inside. She smiled with pride, noticing that they were nearly _perfect_ , they only needed a few more moments. Watching for a moment longer, she turned off the heat, only to reach in and pull out the pan.

Setting the pan on her counter, Hermione looked around for her spatula, only to hiss in pain when her arm bumped into the hot cookie sheet. Staring down at the red welt in disappointment, she wondered if her efforts weren't doomed from the beginning. Nothing seemed to be going her way that day.

Spatula in hand, she worked on getting the cookies onto a cooling rack, only to growl in annoyance when the soft, gooey deliciousness accordioned under the pressure. Throwing down the spatula, Hermione wondered if the universe was just determined to conspire against her that day.

It seemed as if she'd been messing up all day. Normally she was an exacting baker, but she'd used baking _soda_ instead of baking _powder_ and had to scrap the first batch. Then, she'd used entirely too much flour the second time, only to realize that she was nearly out of the chocolate chips. A quick trip to the market had rectified that, but mistakes just kept piling up despite her best efforts.

Maybe the cookies plight was for the best, she thought, collapsing in a huff into her kitchen chair. Harry and Ron had told her it was odd to bring your new neighbor baked goods these days, but she'd waved their concerns off. Sure, it was a little bit old-fashioned, but she wanted to seem like a good neighbor, and really making cookies wasn't difficult. Normally, she was such an exacting baker that things always turned out for her on the first go.

Nibbling her lower lip, she could admit that perhaps her reasons for wanting to present her new downstairs neighbor weren't completely innocent. She was immensely curious to meet the new arrival ever since she'd seen the lonesome moving truck the week prior.

She'd moved into the first floor flat when her parents had moved to Australia while she was just starting University. Not wanting to leave the schooling system that she'd grown up in, she'd elected to stay behind in London to complete her degree. Her parents had generously offered to help her buy a flat so that they wouldn't have to worry about their little _apple crumble_ being all alone in a big city. The flat was modest and in a quiet neighborhood, right next to a large park that she could run through. She was immensely grateful not to have to scramble for housing near the University every year like Harry and Ron did. It was solitary, which she appreciated most of the time, but sometimes it could get lonely.

Since she'd lived there, though, the garden level apartment had remained stubbornly empty. Not that she was too surprised. She'd looked at that one first being financially conscious, knowing that it was significantly cheaper than the first floor flat. It was dreadfully dingy and dark - certainly not worth the cheaper rent in her opinion. Even Harry and Ron wouldn't consent to move in there when they saw it! And it seemed as if everyone who came to look at the basement flat agreed, because it sat empty for three years.

It was nothing like her airy, homey flat, with it's spacious bay windows overlooking the garden, and white walls making the perfect blank canvas for Hermione to make her mark on. Her flat was large, and even boasted a second bedroom that Harry and Ron were always arguing for when they didn't want to make the trek back to theirs after late night studying sessions.

So, when she finally caught sight of the moving truck the weekend before, she'd become obsessed with figuring out who Hagrid had tricked into living there. So far, she hadn't caught a glimpse of the mysterious renter. Really, the only clue that anyone was living there at all was the ashtray of soggy looking cigarette butts that she could see over the fence dividing her bit of the garden from theirs.

Hermione had become determined to introduce herself to the stranger, whoever they were, and knew no better way to do that than offer a baked good. Too bad, these miserable heaps of chocolate and cookie were looking less like a baked good and more like something she'd scrapped out of the bin.

"Things just aren't going my way today, Crookshanks," she said to her cat, who was staring at her from his favorite perch on the kitchen window, his tail swishly lazily in the summer sunlight. He looked wholly unimpressed with her third and final attempt at chocolate chip cookies. Using her fingers, she tried to shape the sad looking cookies into something more like a cookie, slightly burning her fingertips as she worked.

Sighing, she took a step back, deciding to stop before she utterly mangled them. Bringing her finger up to her mouth, she sucked the melted chocolate off of her wounded digit, making a noise of contentment. _Well, at least it still_ tasted _delicious_ , Hermione thought with a shrug. She wasn't a very good cook, but she could bake.

While she waited for the cookies to cool completely, she rolled the sleeves of her cardigan down, hoping to look polished for her new neighbor. She wanted them to know that although she was a student, it wasn't as though she was going to be throwing ragers, making too much noise, or being irresponsible. They wouldn't have to worry about her getting into any mischief.

"I'm a good neighbor," Hermione whispered to herself. "One that anyone should be happy to have living next to them." Crookshanks gave her a skeptical look, as though he doubted her words.

Knowing that she couldn't put it off any longer, Hermione transferred the cookies to a plate, affixing a bit of plastic over the top to keep them fresh. Taking a deep breath, she knew that she had to just go knock on the door, or else she would work herself into even more of a tizzy over it, until too much time had passed and it would be awkward to introduce herself. Better to get it over with now, rather than to cross paths some day six months from now out in the drizzle and carrying a load of groceries.

Leaving the sanctuary of her home, Hermione walked down the stairs to her new neighbor's entrance. She raised her hand and knocked firmly on the peeling green paint of the door, holding her breath, waiting for any noise to indicate that the other person was home.

At first, she didn't hear anything. But then, she caught something that sounded like a crash, followed by heavy steps. The person on the other side of the door fumbled with the locks, seeming to have a bit of trouble with them, before opening the door a crack, the chain still in place. "What do you want?" the male voice groused at her.

Hermione swallowed, gathering her courage. "I didn't mean to bother you," she said nervously, nibbling on her lower lip, trying to get a better look at the man. He was taller than she had expected, with dark hair and a scruffy face. "I'm your upstairs neighbor, Hermione. I just brought some cookies."

The door slammed shut in her face making Hermione blink in surprise. Just when she was ready to retreat to her own home, horribly offended by the rude man, she heard the chain moving in its track, and the door was swinging open again.

Now fully revealed to her, Hermione could see that her neighbor looked quite strong, even in his plain white t shirt and torn jeans. He had an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but his blue eyes were looking her over with amusement and if she wasn't mistaken, appreciation. "So _you're_ Hermione," he said with a grin. "Hagrid's told me all about you."

Hermione scrunched up her nose at that. "I don't seem to recall Hagrid telling me anything about you," she said, feeling accusatory.

"Sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said that same lascivious grin never leaving his face. "My name's Rabastan," he introduced himself, removing the cigarette from his mouth and moving to lean against the door jam, making no secret that he was looking her body up and down.

"It's nice to meet you, Rabastan," Hermione said with a frown, wondering just what his angle was. So far it wasn't _really_ nice to meet him at all. She was getting the message loud and clear that he enjoyed her body, but she was finding him nothing but rude! He had a handsome face, of course, but it was completely ruined by his dastardly behavior. She practically expected him to have a mustache he could twirl before threatening to tie her to a train.

"Did you really make these all for me?" he questioned, his lips quirked into a smile, taking the platter of cookies out of her hands, looking them over. He pulled back the plastic wrapping to inspect them better. "Still warm."

"Yes, well, I didn't make them for _you_ ," Hermione said, trying to figure a way to talk herself out of this. It wasn't as if she'd made the cookies for Rabastan. He was acting as if she were some lovesick teenager, bringing gifts to the boy she was pining for. Honestly, if she knew how he was going to act, she would have just decided to forget it. "I was just trying to be neighborly. I would have done it for _whoever_ my new neighbor was."

He breathed in deeply, picking up one of the still-warm cookies. "Mm, I wonder if these taste as good as they look," he said with a smirk, his blue eyes never leaving her, and Hermione got the distinct impression that he wasn't talking about the cookies.

Frowning at him, she tried to exit the conversation as soon as possible. "Well, I hope that you enjoy them. Alone," she said tightly, wondering how this meeting had gone so sideways.

"Wait, wait, don't you want to come in?" Rabastan asked, stepping aside so that she could see inside his flat. It was practically just as barren as it had been when she toured it. She wondered if he was still unpacking. "I think that you and I could have lots of fun together."

"Excuse me?" Hermione demanded, taking a step backwards. "I don't even _know_ you, and you want to invite me in to...to..."

"Fuck," he supplied with a shrug.

"To fuck. No thank you, Rabastan," she said firmly, disgusted with his behavior. "And I wouldn't worry about that changing in the future, so please save any future _invitations_."

Hermione didn't want to spend another moment in the man's presence and stopped her way up the stairs, back to the relative safety of her own flat. She couldn't believe that she was now neighbors to someone who was such a womanizer! God, not even five minutes with him and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was undressing her with his eyes.

She slammed the door behind her, startling Crookshanks from his roost. " _Honestly,_ Crookshanks, I have no idea what Hagrid was thinking renting to him!" she growled out, still not able to shake the feeling of being so objectified.

The brunette quickly grabbed hold of her mobile and shot off a text to her landlord, not trusting herself to speak to him at the moment. _Met the new tenant_. Terse, to the point, and hopefully even Hagrid would be able to understand that she was annoyed.

But texting Hagrid wasn't enough. She wanted to complain to someone else about the treatment that she'd just received. Biting her lip, she knew that she couldn't tell Harry or Ron, because they'd either tell her that they told her so, bringing cookies over was weird in the first place, or worse, be woefully overprotective of her, and come over, trying to start something with Rabastan.

Eventually, she decided that she would call Ginny. She knew that Ginny would understand and would be upset on her behalf for the woeful treatment. Dialing way, she was glad that the redhead answered on the second ring. "Hey Hermione, what's up? Luna and I were just making plans to go out tonight."

"What's up is that I just met my new neighbor," Hermione said, letting her bitterness seep into her words.

"Oh yeah, Ron told me you were bringing over baked goods. How did it go?" she asked dutifully. "What are the chances that you'd have some cookies left over to bring round to the pub?"

"Ginny! I am _very_ upset right now," Hermione whined, feeling a bit childish.

Ginny snorted audibly. "Hermione, your cookies are bomb, and you cannot blame me for wanting them. Besides, the pub will be a good way for you to blow off some steam," her friend reasoned.

Hermione could agree with that. It had been a while since she'd let off steam, being so distracted by a couple of essays that just all happened to get assigned at the same time. "I suppose I could go out for a couple of drinks," she said quietly, pacing towards her windows. Peeking out of the curtain, she could see Rabastan standing in his bit of garden, smoking furiously. She swore under her breath.

"Okay, come on, tell me what happened," Ginny prodded, finally, sensing that Hermione wasn't going to just get over this one.

Running her fingers through her wild hair, she recounted what had just happened minutes previously with her new neighbor. Ginny made suitable noises and just let Hermione generally vent.

"He sounds like a jerk," Ginny quipped. "But you are a hot bitch, Hermione. He must have been too surprised by how pretty you were and reverted to his animal brain."

" _Ginny,_ " Hermione whined. "Please don't tease." Hermione was very confident in many aspects of her life, but her looks were not one of them. Especially considering she hadn't actually dated anyone since she was fourteen, finding herself far too focused on her schoolwork. She highly doubted that someone like Rabastan would truly find her too pretty to think around. She stared at him standing in the back garden and thought he looked a bit like something out of a photoshoot.

"It's the truth," Ginny insisted. "Was _he_ at least good looking?" she asked, sounding utterly too mirthful.

Hermione sputtered for a moment, wondering if Ginny knew she was spying on him at that very moment. "I mean...a _little_ ," she said with a groan. His white t shirt was doing him all sorts of favors, showing off muscular arms. "He looks strong, that's for sure. I wonder what he does for work? Maybe construction or something like that."

"Hm, well, maybe you shouldn't write off your built, hot neighbor based off of five minutes of conversation?" Ginny offered, unhelpfully. "Sure, he made a bad first impression, but I bet that he isn't _actually_ that terrible. Just wait and see what happens."

"I suppose you are right," Hermione answered, hating that she was just expected to give him a second chance. Why should she have to put up with his bad behavior? Still, she knew that she was shite at first impressions herself, never feeling entirely comfortable in new social settings. And, she had sort of surprised him by just knocking on his door randomly. " _If_ we cross paths again, I will try to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Now, tell me, what are you going to wear?" Ginny asked eagerly. The two girls dissolved into discussion about what Hermione had to wear, her friend suggesting things that were really _far too_ racy for the pub.

Ever since Ginny started dating Blaise Zabini, she'd been eager to see all of her friends hooked up with someone else. She'd even gone so far as to set up her ex-boyfriend, Harry, with their other friend Luna. Hermione couldn't admit that Luna and Harry were pretty cute together, but she wasn't broken up over the fact that Ginny's match-making skills had not extended to Hermione.

Ginny felt even more strongly about setting Hermione up because of the complicated romantic situation between her and Ron. They always seemed to be interested in the other at the wrong times, and after years of dancing around each other, Hermione was finally ready to let that one go. Really, they were better off as friends.

It wasn't as if Hermione _needed_ to date anyone at all. Would it be nice to have someone to have dinners in with, or weekends holed up watching movies? Yes, of course. But, Hermione was also content with just herself and Crooks. Really, she was so busy with school work that she wasn't positive she even _had_ time to devote to a relationship. Once she graduated she could always start dating more seriously.

Sneaking one last peek at Rabastan down in the garden, she wondered if he even knew how much he'd annoyed her. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, before standing to go inside. Hermione sighed, turning away from the window, thinking she'd spent enough time spying on someone she didn't even want to talk to again.

Looking at her closet, she touched the silky fabric of the black top Ginny had suggested she wear out. It seemed entirely too sexy for the pub, but maybe Ginny had a point. She'd been shut in for so long now. Maybe she would wear it just this once...


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you are enjoying the story so far - Rabastan and Hermione definitely know how to butt heads don't they? You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter two and be on the lookout for chapter three next week!

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Since the disastrous meeting with her new neighbor, Hermione hadn't given Rabastan a second thought. She'd gone out with Ginny and Luna for a raucous girls' night out that had given Hermione a hangover for the century and the phone number of a rather good looking guy called Cormac. Ginny had insisted that she text him right away, but Hermione wasn't so sure that it would be a good idea. There was something arrogant about him that really rubbed Hermione the wrong way.

She studiously ignored the loud music that Rabastan blasted late into the evening, unsure if he was purposefully trying to irritate her with the plaster-shaking noise. Little did he know, she'd long ago invested in a pair of earplugs to drown out Ron's snoring when he stayed over. Too bad for her, she could still feel the bass deep in her bones, even if the noise was drown out.

The only time that she'd seen him was peering at him in the back garden, where he spent most of his time smoking. However, halfway through the week, he had begun wheeling out an older looking motorcycle and would spend the early evenings tinkering away with it, until his hands and face were smudged with grease.

Not that she was looking.

She wondered more and more about him the more time that had passed, wondering what exactly his _deal_ was. She still hadn't forgotten the way that he'd looked at her when she'd brought over the cookies, just trying to be nice. She needed something to get thoughts of Rabastan out of her mind.

Luckily, her Professor had come through on that end, assigning her a 40-page essay to be turned in in three weeks, and Hermione had dove right into her research. A trip to the library had been more than productive and she'd brought home a stack of books that she almost couldn't see over. After that, she had set up shop at her kitchen table, books spread out with color coded post-its and random bits of paper covered in red ink for editing. Hermione prided herself on being an excellent student, so a big essay was the perfect thing to throw all of her attention into.

Not even the numerous texts and phone calls from her friends on a Friday could pull her out of her research. She had her hair up in an artful topknot, her feet warm in cozy slippers and one of her dad's old sweatshirts on, and she was in this for the long haul.

That was, until she heard a faint pounding on her door. Realizing that Ginny _must_ have decided to pull her away from the books, Hermione stood from the table stretching her back. "Oh, Crooks, that girl," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, before walking towards the door. "She just doesn't know how to take no for an answer." Sometimes she wondered if she talked to her familiar really far too much.

As she was approaching, the intruder knocked on her door once more. "Ginny, I _already_ told you I can't come out tonight," she called through the wood, her fingers deftly working to undo the locks.

"I'm not Ginny," a decidedly male voice said from the other side of the door, with a laugh.

Hermione felt supremely stupid, opening the door, only to come face to face with Rabastan once again. It looked like he was freshly shaved, though she could still see the shadow of stubble left behind. Wearing ripped jeans and black band shirt, he looked really far too casual to be holding what appeared to be a rather expensive looking bottle of red wine in his tattooed hands, a hastily tied white ribbon on the neck.

"What do you want?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

Rabastan cleared his throat, his eyes dropping to the floor in guilt, before popping back up to her face. "Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot," he said, running a hand through his dark hair. "I wanted to apologize and I wondered if...if we could start over?"

Hermione looked him over, trying to read his face for any hint of sincerity. "That's one way of putting it," she said cautiously.

"Here, take it," he said, holding the bottle out for her to take.

She stared at the bottle in his hands, wondering if she should accept the peace offering, remembering Ginny's words that she should give him a second chance...that he might have just been caught off guard by how _hot_ she was. _Well, no trouble of that now_ , Hermione thought to herself, realizing that her current outfit was just about the least sexy thing someone could wear.

His blue eyes were beginning to look a little bit desperate the longer she didn't take the bottle. As he was about to speak again, a loud yowl caught both of their attentions, as Crookshanks slunk from behind her legs to stare up at the new stranger. Her bandy-legged cat was always far more perceptive than a cat should be.

Rabastan immediately smiled at the Crookshanks, leaning over to offer his hand to pet. After a brief sniff of his hand, Crookshanks was purring wildly, bumping his face against Rabastan's hand, eager for ear scratches. "Who is this?" Rabastan asked with a broad smile, his face turned all the more handsome by his laughter.

Hermione felt her heart stutter a bit. "Crookshanks, my cat," she explained, watching the scene with interest. Surely if Crookshanks seemed to think that Rabastan was okay, she should give him a second chance? Crookshanks had known Ron for almost a decade and still hissed at her ginger friend!

Her neighbor straightened up once again, offering the bottle out for her without words, still chuckling at Crookshanks behavior. "Here you go - at least I was able to win one of you over," he said with a grin.

Gratefully, Hermione took the bottle from his hands. "Erm, say, would you like to come in for a bit. Maybe have a glass of this?" she asked, surprised by her own forwardness. "Just, I doubt any of my friends would appreciate it. They are all more into vodka and snakebites at the moment."

Rabastan looked as if he'd won the lottery and eagerly stepped inside the flat after her. "What's a snakebite?" he asked, his nose scrunched up in confusion.

Hermione turned to look at him, feeling surprised. They were all the rage at her student union. "Oh, it's a drink - half lager and half cider. Sometimes you can get it with a bit of blackcurrent in it. My friend Ginny loves that because the bartender always pour the letter G into the foam," she explained, leading him to the kitchen. She rummaged around looking for the bottle opener, while Rabastan made himself useful looking for cups. "They are above the microwave," she called over her shoulder.

"Sound intriguing," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, setting the wine glasses in front of her, waiting for her to pour a healthy glass for each of them.

"Have you been living under a rock? I swear everyone's heard of them. They get you drunk quickly," she explained, knowing that that was why Ron liked them in particular. "I don't care for them very much."

Rabastan looked embarrassed before rubbing a hand to the back of his neck. "Something like that," he said with a grin, before lifting up his glass to offer a toast. "To new neighbors," he said brightly.

"Cheers," Hermione responded, clinking her glass against his delicately before taking a sip. Looking over at the kitchen counter, she belatedly realized that all of her schoolwork had completely taken over her table. "Oh, er - shall we go sit in the living room?" she asked, leading the way.

Turning on a couple of lamps, Hermione hadn't realized how dark it had gotten while she was studying. She must have been at her work for several hours at that point, and was glad for the surprise visit by her new neighbor. She could already tell that her back would be protesting the way she'd been hunched over her books for hours in the morning.

"Wow, this is really nice," he said, looking around at the pictures of her one the walls, laughing with her friends. He paused for a moment at the serious looking photo of her and her parents as well. "Much nicer than the dungeon that I am living in downstairs."

"Why _are_ you living there?" she questioned, very curious. "It's been empty for years. The flat isn't very nice, and the low rent doesn't quite make up for that."

"It's cheap. I'm just trying to get on my feet right now," he explained, but quickly glossed over the topic, trying to change the subject. "So you are a student? All those books, you must be pretty advanced in school."

Hermione blinked, trying to figure out how she'd even gotten into this situation in the first place. "Yes, I'm studying history right now and I hope to go into law in the future," Hermione explained. "There is a lot of writing involved, but I find it quite rewarding."

Rabastan nodded. "I was never a very good student myself," he said, sounding a bit dejected, before brightening up. "Hey, you know, I could help you track down a little-" he tapped the side of his nose comically, "if you wanted. If you needed help staying up at night, to study, I mean."

She knew that her jaw _must_ be hanging over, because she was just too shocked that he'd honestly offered to find her drugs. There had been _one time_ when Fred and George had convinced her to try some of their adderall, but she found that she hated the sensation, completely unable to sit down while she was on it. "Did you just offer to find me cocaine?" she said, her voice going quite shrill. "What are you, some kind of drug dealer?"

"No!" Rabastan said suddenly, shaking his head. "Well, I mean, not any more, but I still know most of my contacts. Cocaine really helps you focus. I was...just trying to help."

"So you used to be a drug dealer? How is that supposed to make me feel any better?" she asked, trying not to get hysterical. Were people going to be coming and going from her building at all hours of the night, strung out and trying to get their fix?

"It's not - I'm sorry," he said, setting down his empty glass, running his hands through his hair. "Look, I'm really not...in practice of talking to woman, and you just make me so nervous. I-I like you and I am just trying to show you..."

"You like me? You don't even know me," she insisted, wondering what the hell she'd done to leave such an impression on him. Besides, he was clearly skirting around some sort of issue, but it wasn't helping smooth things over in the slightest. She hated not getting the full picture. "Look, why don't you just explain what you mean instead of talking in code."

Rabastan took a deep breath, before looking up at her. "I just get out of prison. I was in for ten years, and well, like I said, not a lot of women around for me to talk to," he said, his eyebrows narrowing at her. "And you are so pretty and it's been so long since I've been with a woman."

Hermione stood up, nostrils flaring. "Oh, so you haven't had a _fuck_ in a while and you thought that trying to get with me would be easy did you? Because I'm so convenient," she accused, feeling hurt. Rabastan was good looking, tall and strong, but she knew that there was no chance he was actually interested in her. Feeling like the path of least resistance hurt even more.

"It's not like that," Rabastan floundered, though he wasn't very convincing. He took a deep breath, before a suave smile found its way back onto his face. He stood up, closing the distance between them, pressing a hand to her shoulder. "Is it so hard to believe that I am attracted to you? If all I wanted was a fuck, I could be out at any bar right now."

Hermione pulled away from him. He was good looking, she could give him that. His physique was certainly explained by the time away in prison. But, if he thought that she was going to swoon into his arms, he was sorely mistaken. A bit of wine and a smile weren't enough to get her to drop her knickers, and worse, now she was feeling intensely mistrustful of him.

"I think that you should leave now," she said, crossing her arms over her chest once more. Suddenly, she wished she wasn't wearing little more than pajamas. Rabastan opened his mouth as if to protest, but Hermione cut him off with a stare. "It's not up for discussion. I _want_ you to leave. Right now."

Rabastan looked deflated, but he nodded anyway, leading Hermione back towards the front door. Once he was out on the front stoop, he turned around to look at her, a spark in his blue eyes. "Goodnight, Hermione," he said, sounding a bit dejected.

"Goodnight," she answered tersely, before shutting the door in his face. Surely, he'd be able to find his way home on his own. It wasn't as if he had far to go.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her mobile and scrolled to her message thread with Hagrid. _And he's a convicted felon, too? What the hell, Hagrid. When were you going to tell me?_ She fired off another text, before taking the used glasses to the kitchen. Setting them in the sink, she decided that she would get to them in the morning.

Looking at her lonely stack of books, Hermione decided that she just didn't have the energy at the moment to study anymore. She had gotten a lot done that day, and after the excitement of the evening, she was ready to curl up into bed for the night. She went through her nightly routine on autopilot, washing her face and brushing her hair.

When she got back from brushing her teeth, she noticed she had a new message on her phone. It was from Hagrid. _I'm sorry, Mione. His probation officer is the same as mine, and I thought he seemed like an alright bloke. He's trying to better himself and he's accepted responsibility for his crimes._

Hermione rolled her eyes, flopping back against her pillows. Hagrid had always had a horrible habit of taking in strays and trying to rehabilitate them. She thought about his massive rottweiler called Fluffy who had been rescued from a dog fighting ring and didn't seem to like anyone _but_ Hagrid, even though the giant man insisted he was a sweet dog. Rabastan was par for the course with Hagrid.

The phone in her hand buzzed once again. _So I take it you aren't getting along with Rab?_

Hermione snorted. _That's putting it lightly._ She responded quickly. _Just, a little heads up would be nice in the future, Hagrid._ Of course, she knew that her landlord meant well and he would never do anything to purposefully upset her.

Closing her eyes, she knew that she needed to get some rest. Surely, she would feel better about it in the morning.

* * *

The next day, Hermione decided that she would actually trek all the way to her school's library to study, needing to get out of the house a little bit. The last thing that she wanted was to be distracted with thoughts of Rabastan, or to be tempted to sneak peeks at him out of her kitchen window.

So with her backpack full nearly to bursting, she set out bright and early the next day. When she opened her door, she was startled to find something waiting for her on the stoop. Narrowing her eyes at the crinkling purple paper, she bent over to pick it up, only to find a bouquet of flowers inside.

The flowers were truly lovely - a variety of wildflowers in all colors - and she bit her lower lip to stop from smiling. There was no card, but Hermione had an inkling of just who had given them to her. Well, she had to hand it to Rabastan. If he _was_ trying to woo her, he was going for the stereotypical. First wine, now flowers...what was next, an expensive dinner? However, everything he did seemed to be one step forward, two steps back.

She looked down the steps towards the entrance of Rabastan's flat, but didn't find any evidence of him. They were really lovely flowers, and she wasn't going to let them go to waste by leaving them outside to wither and die. Returning back into her flat, Hermione pulled down a vase and set them in some water.

Leaving the flowers on her kitchen counter, she peered out the window towards the back yard. Rabastan was outside, working on his bike again, bits and pieces of it completely pulled off. Hagrid said that Rabastan was trying to better himself. Yes, his efforts to woo her thus far had been a little bit heavy handed, but if he really had been in prison for ten years, could she really blame him? All of his social cues were bound to be more than a little messed up.

Giving Crookshanks a scratch behind the ears, she decided that she wouldn't be overtly hostile to the man, but she wasn't going to go out of her way to engage him either. If he was really trying, he would improvements. Then, maybe, someday down the line, they could be friendly with one another.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! A few of you have asked about my fancast for Rabastan and I have to be honest that I don't have anyone in particular in mind. I would love to hear who you see him as, though. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter three and be on the lookout for chapter four next week!

* * *

When she'd finally messaged Cormac the week after meeting him at the pub, he'd seemed offended that she hadn't called him sooner. Hermione got the impression that he was used to girls falling at his feet, but he'd kept his tone joking, so she was willing to overlook it. Maybe it was a good reminder to him that not all women were the same.

They made plans to go out to dinner the following Saturday. Ginny had been very supportive, even suggesting that she and Harry tag along as a sort of wingwoman/back up combination. After all, they didn't really know Cormac, so Ginny wanted to be able to keep a proper eye on him. And Harry always had an adorable way of talking Hermione up without realizing what he was doing.

Hermione had firmly declined, thinking that Ginny's interference to see her friend in a relationship would likely do more harm than good. She'd _only_ agreed to go on a date with Cormac, not get married to him, and if Ginny had her way there would be wedding bells in Hermione's future.

She _had_ conceded when Ginny asked to help pick out her outfit, knowing that Ginny did have a better eye for these sorts of things. The pair had spent a weeknight reviewing what Hermione had in her closet before deciding on a clingy dark grey dress and some ankle boots.

It was _then_ that Ginny had finally caught sight of Hermione's new neighbor. Hermione had heard Ginny's scandalized gasp of delight and hurried to where her friend was standing in her kitchen. Peering out the window with her friend, Hermione saw Rabastan working on his bike, lifting his white t shirt to wipe his brow of the sweat, revealing a toned abdomen, with a sprinkling of dark colored hair around his belly button.

"Oh my _god_ ," Ginny had groaned, comically fanning herself. "I thought you said he was only a _little_ bit cute. He is gorgeous."

"He's not that great," Hermione countered, her breath catching in her throat at the lie. Her eyes remained glued to this form, even when he lowered his shirt and crouched down by bike once again. "And, his attitude makes it all the worse."

"If you don't think he's smoking hot, then we need to get your eyes checked," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes.

"Well, don't let _him_ hear you talking like that. He'll cut right to the point and ask you for a fuck," Hermione said with a blush on her cheeks.

Ginny turned to face her friend, a smirk on her lips already seeing Hermione's pink face. "Oh you little liar, Granger," Ginny teased. "You _obviously_ like him a lot more than you let on. He's probably not even serious. You should take him up on his offer and I bet he'd be floundering," Ginny finished with her hands on her hips.

"I don't know about that. He seems pretty sure of himself," Hermione responded, thinking of how he hadn't given up on her yet. Her eyes darted traitorously towards the wilting wildflowers that were currently on the center of her kitchen table.

"Well, with a body like that, wouldn't you be?" Ginny asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

"Did you forget the part where I told you he was in jail? For ten years?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes at her friend. "Why are you trying to get me to date my convict neighbor when I have a date with the perfectly respectable, perfectly handsome, perfectly connected Cormac?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in question. Cormac really was perfect on paper - everything Ginny had been insisting that Hermione needed in her life.

Ginny sighed dramatically. "Okay, but do we even _know_ what he was in jail for? I mean, what if it was something harmless like...I don't know, bank fraud?"

"One, bank fraud _isn't_ harmless," Hermione said with a snort. "And two, does _he_ really look like the kind of guy who would commit bank fraud? He wears leather jackets and has tattoos and all that," Hermione said, catching sight of him once more out of the window. She bit her lower lip, wondering just what he had done to get himself locked up for ten years.

" _Fine_ , I'm not saying that you should date him, but...well, it's not as if things are set in stone with Cormac. I mean, if it doesn't go as planned, at least it's nice to know that you have alternatives," Ginny said with a shrug of her shoulders.

Hermione pursed her lips, looking at her redheaded friend. Sometimes, she really wondered about the girl. "Sure, I am going to see how things go with Cormac," Hermione said. But, she wouldn't commit to calling Rabastan an alternative, especially not one that she might explore things with. "Now, can we please talk about something other than Rabastan?"

Ginny smirked at her once again. "Sure, Granger. Should we go pick out your perfect date knickers?" she asked, before sprinting off in the direction of Hermione's bedroom.

Hermione giggled along, trying to stop her friend half-heartedly before she got to her underwear drawer. _This_ was certainly not what she'd been expecting when she'd asked for help picking out her date outfit.

* * *

In retrospect, Hermione should have known that Cormac was too good to be true.

 _Yes,_ he was good on paper, but only that - paper. In person, he left _much_ to be desired.

Hermione had agreed to meet him out at a wine bar first, declining his invitation to pick her up at her flat. Although she was _sure_ he was just trying to be chivalrous, she'd really only talked to him a handful of times and she didn't fancy him figuring out where she lived. And, partly, Hermione didn't really want Rabastan seeing him coming to pick her up for a date.

Cormac had seemed...irritated by her insistence, but eventually agreed nonetheless.

When he finally showed up at Bottle & Glass - ten minutes late, mind you - he had swept in, pulling Hermione in for a peck on each cheek, making her cringe a bit. He'd ordered one of the most expensive bottles of wine on the list, before boasting about his father sending him to Italy to work on his family's business the last summer, and how he'd learned _everything_ that there was to know about the particular type of grape.

Hermione was often accused of being a know-it-all, but even she couldn't compete with Cormac's level of arrogance. What made it even worse was how utterly _wrong_ he was about the topic.

She'd politely sipped at her glass of wine, not wanting to drink too much before dinner, only to have Cormac constantly topping up her glass. While she appreciated politeness, she did not appreciate having everything done for her. It wasn't as if she was an invalid who couldn't pour for herself, and if he'd just _asked_ she would have told him she was fine with what she had left.

All the while, he blathered on about what great work he was doing. Hermione had initially been interested in Cormac because he was studying law, something that she hoped to one day do as well, once she finished with her history degree. However, it was quickly becoming clear that Cormac really thought that he was much better than everyone else in his program and wasn't too keen on collaborating.

He'd ordered a _second_ bottle of wine, while he bragged about his father's law firm and how he was certain to make partner there in several years time. He did not laugh when Hermione quipped that he had to graduate first.

Really, she should have listened to her instincts and just left him then, but somehow, she talked herself into still going to dinner with him. They had missed their eight o'clock reservations by then, but Cormac promised that they would still get a table once he told them who he was. He seemed well on his way to getting drunk, but Hermione convinced herself to give him the benefit of the doubt.

It was their first date. He was probably just nervous.

By the time they got to the restaurant, Cormac had (embarrassingly) talked his way into getting a table. Hermione had wanted to completely shrink behind the taller man, hoping that no one associated her with him. He'd quickly ordered them _another_ bottle of wine and they'd put in their orders. Hermione was beginning to wonder if he was trying to get her drunk, and decided to leave her glass untouched in favor of some ice water.

Cormac had finally run out of steam talking about himself and he _finally_ started asking her questions about herself. "So, tell me, what is it that you are studying, again?" he asked, giving her a winning grin.

Hermione felt sure that her jaw was open at the question. She couldn't believe that he didn't remember that she wanted to study law, same as him, when it had been a huge feature of their conversation when she'd met him at the bar. She probably never would have continued talking with him after he'd approached her had they not _bonded_ over it. Now, she was wondering just what connection she'd ever felt with him.

"I am finishing up a history degree, and then it is my intention to study law," Hermione answered, giving him a tight smile and a hard stare, wondering if it would tip something off for him. She wondered if he could sense her anger.

Instead, he made a noise of concern. "Ooh, Hermione, I don't know if that would be _right_ for you," he said, reaching across the table to pat her patronizingly on the hand.

Hermione jut her chin forward in annoyance. "And, _why_ exactly do you feel that way?" she asked sharply, _truly_ curious to hear what kind of hairbrained reasoning Cormac was about to come up with.

"Well, you see, you need to have _excellent_ interpersonal skills to be a lawyer, Hermione, and I'm just not sure that you're...suited to that," Cormac said with another smile, clearly unaware that he was driving the final nail in the coffin for their date. "You're so _quiet_. I've barely gotten a handful of sentences out of you all night."

She ripped her hand away from his mitts, throwing her napkin on the table. "Maybe that's because _you_ wouldn't shut up your big gob long enough for me to get a word in edgewise, you prick!" she snarled, before standing up. As far as she was concerned, the date was over. "You certainly think you are pretty great when in reality, you are a pathetically _average_ person."

Cormac looked scandalized at the scene she was making, and called her name after her retreating form. Hermione was not about to stick around long enough for him to try to explain himself. He was left trying to settle up the bill while she stormed right out of the restaurant and into the nippy evening air.

She stomped down the pavement, feeling her body lighten with each step that put more distance between herself and Cormac. The crisp air helped cool her flushed face. Her head was fuzzy from too much wine and she was dreadfully hungry, having not gotten even a measly piece of bread out of her terrible date. She wanted food and she was glad to know that she was not far from her favorite chip shop. She'd swing by, grab herself dinner, and return home, never to speak of Cormac again.

Hermione quickly got in line, trying to decide if she wanted haddock or pollock. It wasn't long after that she heard the door jingle again. "You can't just walk out like that on me!" Cormac's grating voice said, before his hand reached out to spin her around.

"Well, I just did," Hermione said smartly, shrugging out his arm. "In case you didn't figure it out yet, the date is over. Now kindly fuck off," she told him, only to turn back to her spot in line. Their little argument had caught the attention of the other patrons, and Hermione could feel her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Do you even understand how embarrassing it was that you left me at the restaurant?" he said, not getting the hint that she didn't feel an ounce of guilt over leaving him behind.

"Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to listen to you brag about yourself for two hours?" Hermione questioned him, still not turning to face him. "You are a conceited jerk, and I would like it if you please left me alone." It was her turn in line, and she ignored Cormac's blustering while she ordered and paid for her fish.

Stepping aside, it was like Cormac wasn't hearing anything that she was saying. Well, if he was hearing it, he certainly wasn't listening. Instead of taking her advice, he continued to whine and complain to her and questioning if she knew who he was. Frankly, Hermione let his words drown out, her daze focused on the window, waiting for her order to be up. The sooner she got home the better.

Before long, the man behind the counter was handing her the styrofoam container that contained her dinner in a plastic bag and Hermione turned to leave, only to have her path blocked once more by Cormac. "Where the hell do you think you are going? You can't just walk away from me," he said, his face looking rather purple in the florescent lights of the chip shop. He kept stepping in her path to prevent her from leaving. "We aren't done talking."

"I'm _not_ talking to you at all anymore," Hermione said firmly, starting to grow worried with how this was escalating. "Now, leave my alone you _asshole_."

To her dismay, Cormac was not letting up and Hermione's mind was trying to think of what she should do. Calling the police seemed a little bit dramatic, but Cormac was still in her way and no one else seemed to be willing to help her out.

"I think the lady asked you to leave her alone, jerk," a familiar voice came from behind Cormac.

Hermione didn't think she'd _ever_ been so excited to see someone she knew, let alone Rabastan. His normally cocky grin had been replaced with a serious look, his light green eyes already sizing up Cormac. He looked very intimidating wearing a black leather jacket, his broad arms crossed over his chest. Her breath hitched thinking that he looked really quite sexy in the moment.

"Listen, _pal,_ this doesn't concern you," Cormac sneered at the other man, before turning back to Hermione once more. "You are being ridiculous Hermione. Come on, let's just go back to my place and we can forget that this ever happened okay?" he crooned, probably thinking that he seemed like such a catch.

She did not get a chance to answer in the negative before Rabastan was tapping Cormac on the shoulder once again. He date turned his head, his mouth open to tell off the tattooed man once again, only to be caught across the jaw with a right hook that sent Cormac stumbling into a table, sending another patron's chips flying across the floor.

"Hey!" the man behind the counter called out. "I am going to call the police!" he shouted.

Hermione didn't think twice before grabbing Rabastan by the hand - the hand that had effectively silenced her annoying date - pulling him out of the shop. "Come on, let's go!" she said with a grin on her face, pulling him into a run.

The pair of them ran two blocks until they found themselves outside of the tube station and Hermione finally slowed down, doubling over with laughter. "Oh my _god_ , did you see the look on his face when you punched him?" she asked between giggles. "I was fantasizing about doing that all night!"

"If _that's_ what you fantasize about, you need more material," Rabastan said wryly. "Though, if it will get you to fantasize about me at all, I can't complain too much." Hermione snorted in amusement at the joke, thinking that she rather agreed. "Why did you bring me with you?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, her fingers feeling the loss of his hand in hers suddenly. "I figured...you only _just_ got out of jail. Didn't think you'd want to be arrested again," she finally answered. "And as a thank you for saving me, too, I suppose."

"Well, I am happy to be of service," he said with a little mock bow, before shoving his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do now that they were alone.

Silence hung in the air between them. Hermione bit her lower lip, trying to decide what to do. She and Rabastan had left on such a bad note the other night, but she was beginning to think that she was maybe too harsh on him. After all, at least he respected her wishes, unlike Cormac had. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she looked up at him cautiously. "Come on, let's head home," she suggested, hoping that her voice didn't sound too eager.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I loved hearing all of your fancasts for Rabastan too! Oh, by the way, I've set this vaguely in the early 2000s. So, well, let's just jump right back into the story, shall we? You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter four and be on the lookout for chapter five later this week!

* * *

Rabastan stared at her with an odd kind of an appreciation at her offer to go home _together_ before a tortured sort of look came over his scruffy face. "I was planning on walking," he said with a grimace.

Hermione felt her cheeks turn bright pink at his response. "Rabastan, that's nearly eight miles," she told him incredulously. "It's just a few tube stops though," she added on thinking that it would be crazy to try to walk back to their flats, especially so late at night.

"It won't be so bad," he said, his eyes dropping to the pavement in front of them.

Suddenly, Hermione was struck with the realization that perhaps he just didn't _want_ to ride back with her. She had been quite forceful the last time that they'd spent together, and she wondered if maybe she'd really hurt his feelings by being so rude and kicking him out of her flat. Swallowing a lump that formed in her throat, she nodded. "Oh...okay," she said awkwardly, before turning to leave, unable to stand the embarrassment a moment longer.

"Hermione, wait!" She'd barely made it five steps when Rabastan called out to her. He jogged the short distance over to her once she turned to look at him. "It's not that I don't want to ride with you, it's just... _god_ , this is embarrassing," he said, his hands still firmly hidden in his pockets. "I haven't managed to get a bank card yet, and so I can't figure out the damned Oyster machine," he revealed.

"Oh," Hermione responded, looking up at him hopefully. It felt wonderful to know that he wasn't trying to avoid her, but she also felt bad for him. She could totally understand why he would want to avoid the Underground in that case. She couldn't imagine how hard it must be to get your life back on track after being removed from society for so long. "In that case, come on. I can show you how it works."

Rabastan was quick to give her a grin, and follow her inside the tube station. "I don't have any money to give you," he said, sounding a bit incredulous.

The brunette shrugged her shoulders. "I can spot you until you get things sorted out with the bank," she said with a wave of her hand. "Or you can always pay me back when you get a bit of money." She quickly lead them over to one of the bright blue machines, before walking Rabastan through the steps of loading money onto the Oyster card.

"Here you go - that's got ten quid on it, so you should be set for a few rides at least," Hermione explained with a smile, holding out the card and waiting for him to take it.

Rabastan took the bit of plastic eagerly, looking at her as if she hung the moon. "Thank you," he answered genuinely, as if he was completely unused to being treated so nicely.

Hermione tried not to blush under his appreciative gaze. "Don't worry about it. I kind of owe you anyway, for helping me out with my terrible date," she said, pushing some of her wild hair out of her face. It seemed like it had only gotten more out of control when they were running away from the chip shop. "We should hurry if we want to catch the next train," she told him, before leading him down the escalator.

"Yes, what exactly was the story with your Romeo?" he teased, turning to look up at her from the lower step on the moving staircase.

"Met him at a bar - he seemed nice, but a little self absorbed," Hermione said with a shrug of her shoulders, wondering why she'd gone against her better judgement and agreed to go out on a date with Cormac in the first place. "We didn't make it through dinner before I got fed up with his bullshit and left."

"What did he say to you?" Rabastan questioned, sounding annoyed on her behalf.

"Just told me that I didn't have the right _interpersonal_ skills to be a lawyer," Hermione told him with a grimace. "It only hurt because...well, _I_ sometimes worry the same thing. I never seem to make connections with other people easily. I'm lucky to have the friends that I do, but it doesn't stop me from always putting my foot in my mouth and screwing things up."

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Hermione led them to the green line to take them back to their part of town, easily finding a pair of seats next to one another. She wondered why she was finding it so easy to open up to Rabastan. Perhaps it was the wine and empty stomach that still had her mind feeling fuzzy and pleasant.

Rabastan slipped into the seat next to her and she was overwhelmed by his presence next to her. She could feel the coolness of his jacket through the light jersey of her dress, his scent of mint, cinnamon and new leather making her want to bury her face into his chest and just breath him in. His long legs were nearly too big for the spot in space in front of him, and she could feel his heat seeping into her where his leg pressed against hers.

Thinking that she needed some food, she pulled the styrofoam container out of the bag, before popping the lid. She broke off a piece of haddock, glad that it didn't burn her fingers and brought it to her mouth. Lifting up the box, she offered him a taste. "Do you want some?" she asked generously.

Rabastan took a chip from the box greedily, before taking a bite. "For the record, I think that you'd make a great lawyer," he said, honestly. "And I should know - I've worked with a lot of them. You can argue with the best of them," he finished with a wink.

Hermione smiled at that. "You really think so?" she questioned, before seeing him nod. "Well, I suppose I _should_ trust your expertise. What were you doing out in central London anyway?" she questioned, thinking that it really was such perfect timing to run into Rabastan when she did, when she thought no one was going to help her deal with Cormac.

Rabastan scratched at his beard, keeping his head steadfastly forward. "I was meeting with my parole officer, actually," he admitted finally.

"So, did you really walk all the way out there?" Hermione asked, feeling incredulous. If he hadn't gotten an Oyster card yet, she didn't see how he would have been able to without walking the distance.

"Well, I had been hoping I'd have my motorcycle running by now, but I haven't been able to get it up to snuff yet," he said, his body turning towards hers the longer that they talked with one another. "Walking isn't ideal, but I don't really have the choice _not_ to go, you know?"

Hermione bit her lower lip, wondering how much of himself he would share with her. "Hagrid told me that you share a parole officer," she said casually, before taking another bite of her fish. Perhaps it was far too bold, and she didn't know Rabastan nearly well enough to ask him about it yet.

Rabastan nodded, snatching another chip out of her open container, before taking a bite. "Yeah, Shacklebolt, the parole officer, he was the one who introduced us to one another. He thought that I might benefit from someone like Hagrid, whose been out for a long time," he explained. "And of course, I am so grateful to Hagrid for offering me a place to rent."

She looked at him, watching his eyes shift back and forth trying to catch the movement of the tunnel as the train car raced by. "How old are you?" she asked, knowing it wasn't entirely polite of her to ask, but she wanted to know more about him, more about his life. He'd said he'd been in prison for ten years, but he seemed so young still.

"I'm thirty-two," he said with a small smile. "Birthday's in July. What about you?"

"Twenty-two," Hermione said, feeling that familiar knot form in her throat when she realized that he would have been her age when he went and got locked up. "So, you were in for ten years. You were barely even an adult...that must have been hard." Suddenly all of his behavior seemed to make much more sense. It was almost as if his personal growth would have been stunted, having been locked away from society for almost all of your adult life.

"Yeah, well, I was only twenty when I got charged," Rabastan answered, leaning back into his seat, his face suddenly very serious. Hermione bit at her lower lip, wondering if this was the sort of thing that was easy for him to talk about it. She doubted it ever would be. His light green eyes read her face cautiously. "But the court case dragged on for a while and I was out on bail. _That_ was almost worse than prison."

Hermione felt as if she was on the edge of her seat, learning more about her mysterious neighbor. "How come?" she wondered, thinking that it would be nice to relish your last bit of freedom before you knew that you had to go away.

"Well, you feel as if you are constantly on the edge, nothing is decided. You can't do anything you want, not really, and you can't go anywhere, even though the whole world is available to you," he explained, his hand rubbing at his chin, while he tried to put it in words. The movement brought her eyes to his knuckles, which appeared to have a bit of blood on it. The sight shocked her a bit into remembering that not thirty minutes prior, he'd violently punched Cormac in the face. "At least in prison, the temptations are... _limited_."

The more that they spoke to one another, the closer they seemed to move towards one another, as if pulled together by some invisible force. Hermione swallowed, her dinner suddenly forgotten, as she was drawn to the masculine cut of his jaw, to the way that his adam's apple bobbed up and down when she was looking at him. Clearing her throat suddenly, Hermione leaned back, desperate for some distance. "I can see what you mean. Why was your court case so long? They usually seem to go pretty quickly."

Rabastan swallowed again, before dropping his gaze to his lap, and Hermione would tell that it was difficult for him to open up about it. "Because well...I had co-conspirators and well, none of us was very cooperative with the police."

While Hermione didn't particularly approve of criminals, she could understand why Rabastan wouldn't want to be cooperative with the police, especially since she knew how perilous it could be to turn on one of your partners. She wondered what it was exactly that he'd done, and couldn't stop herself from prying. The words were out of her mouth before she even realized it. "What did you do?" she asked, sounding breathless.

He gave her a solemn look, but didn't back down from the question. "It was attempted murder," he told her truthfully.

Hermione immediately felt her blood run cold at hearing the word murder. Of all the possible things that she imagined he had been put away for, murder - attempted or otherwise - was the last thing that she ever would have expected. She tried to control her swirling emotions, knowing that she should just be glad that he was honest with her, even though it was obviously an uncomfortable topic. And, he'd done his time, a _long time_ at that.

Closing her dinner abruptly to focus her mind, Hermione tried not to freak out in front of him. She tried to remember that Hagrid himself had been convicted of involuntary manslaughter, even though he always maintained his innocence. Perhaps what had happened with Rabastan was something similar to that.

"It's not...as bad as it seems," Rabastan told her, his eyes showing how desperate he was for her to understand. " _Fuck_ , I mean, of course it was bad, and it was wrong, but I've done my time and I realize how terrible it was, and I've changed. I promise."

Hermione listened to the automated voice call off the stop and realized that they only had one more before their own. At the very least they were almost back home. "You've changed," she repeated, _wanting_ to believe that what he said was true.

"Yes, I've spent nearly all of my fucking adult life in prison - ten years, down the drain. I don't want to do anything that could put me back there," he said with a frown. "I'm ready to move on, and to be a better person."

When their station was called, Hermione stood, and motioned for Rabastan to follow her, even though she was no longer feeling as playful as when they had initially boarded the train. Rabastan followed her, looking like a puppy who had broken the rules. Hermione led him towards the escalator once more, getting on, before turning around to face him.

She stared down at his hopeful face, for once a bit taller than him, nibbling on her lower lip and trying to decide what she wanted to tell him. "I believe you," she said, her eyebrows furrowed. She _did_ believe that he wanted to be a better person, but he also seemed to be slipping back into negative habits. After all, wasn't punching Cormac the kind of thing that got him into this whole mess. "I want to understand...will you tell me what happened?" she asked, feeling her heart hammer against her ribcage.

He didn't answer immediately, and Hermione turned to step off the escalator, giving him a chance to collect himself. She dumped the remains of her picked over dinner into the bin on the way out of the station, not feeling so hungry anymore after her intense conversation with Rabastan.

Once they were outside again, Rabastan fell into step next to her, his long legs catching up with hers easily. "It's not a very nice story. Basically, my brother and his wife and I were trying to rob another gang, and we held this couple up at knife point. My brother went a little crazy and ended up stabbing the guy and he nearly died," he told her, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a convoluted jumble that she didn't quite understand. "We found out later that they were undercover cops. So the punishment was a little bit harsher than usual."

Hermione felt her cheeks color, wondering if what Rabastan had done really warranted an attempted murder charge. "But all _you_ did was attempted robbery," she said finally, trying to think of a way to absolve the handsome man. "It was your brother who did the stabbing."

Rabastan gave her a wry smile once again. "Yes, but we all intended to commit a crime so, we all got the same charges...and besides, I couldn't testify against my own brother," he explained, an air of reluctance in his voice.

She nodded, thinking that the dynamics of the situation were really quite complicated. After all, he was unlikely to snitch on a friend if he'd been in some kind of a gang, but even less likely if it was his brother he would be putting away to save himself. Hermione remembered the horrible guilt she'd felt the one time she'd turned Ron in for cheating when they'd been in school and how terrible a rift it had caused in their friendship.

Before she knew it, they were standing in front of the stoop to their flat. Rabastan followed her up the stairs to her door, stopping to give her a significant look. Hermione fiddled with her keys. "I understand, Rabastan," she told him, hoping that she _would_ be able to look past his misdeeds. "I can tell that you are trying to turn over a new leaf."

He gave her a crooked grin that sent her pulse fluttering. "Yeah, like saving damsels in distress from pricks at chip shops," he teased. His eyes dropped to her lips, and before she knew what was happening, he was leaning forward, pressing her body against the door, his lips slanting against hers in a passionate kiss. He caught her plump lower lip between his perfectly, giving her an affectionate nip.

Hermione's eyes slipped shut, overtaken by the sudden wave of feeling. It felt wonderful to be surrounded by his scent, her fingers finding purchase in his t shirt. But quickly, intrusive thoughts of their night came back to the forefront of her mind, and Hermione was pushing him away.

Rabastan gave her a groan of disappointment, but pulled away. "Babe, I don't understand you," he said finally, little wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes while he tried to read her face. "Come on, I've been your knight in shining armor."

She looked up at him in confusion, wondering if he'd only helped her out at the chip shop because he thought that it was a way to woo her, a way to get into her pants. He said that he was trying to be a better person, but it seemed as if he was still hardwired to resort to violence to handle things. Yes, it had been a delight to see Cormac finally shut up after the night she had, but she wasn't sure that she wanted that kind of energy in her life.

Sighing, Hermione hated the feeling of disappointing him. "I'm not going to be swept off of my feet by watching you punch my date, Rabastan," she said, wondering if she was making some kind of horrible mistake. "Good night," she said firmly, before turning and entering her flat, leaving him outside on the steps.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! You can also follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

please let me know what you thought of chapter five and be on the lookout for chapter six soon!

* * *

Hermione didn't know how to feel the morning after her date with Cormac. She had dozens of missed calls and a couple of threatening texts about the man that had punched him, but Hermione could always feign ignorance about who Rabastan was if Cormac really made such a stink about it. It wasn't as if she ever planned on going on another date with him, no matter what she was feeling about Rabastan.

She had had _such_ a wonderful time running from the chip shop with Rabastan, showing him how to use the Oyster system, and burning their fingers on greasy fish and chips on the train ride home. She couldn't remember the last time that she'd laughed quite so hard as she had seeing the look on Cormac's face.

It was such an up and down roller coaster ride of emotions. While she was pleased that he'd opened up to her about his past, she couldn't pretend as if she was totally cool with what he'd done. After all, attempted _murder_ was a pretty serious charge, no matter how he tried to explain it. He'd still held a blade to a woman's throat, and the thought of it made queasy.

At the same time, she did believe in second chances and he seemed to have taken his time in prison seriously. She believed that Rabastan really was _trying_ to turn over a new leaf, even if she didn't know how _successful_ he was at it. But, could she really blame him? He'd been pulled out of what could be considered normal society for ten years, and there was obviously a huge learning curve.

She thought about the kiss that he'd given her and immediately her pulse sped up, warmth blossoming in her chest. There was something about the way that he'd held her, as if she were a cool drink of water to a man dying of thirst, that made her feel incredibly sexy. However, she worried that he was merely focused on her because of proximity first, and her continued denials second. As if she were just some kind of prize.

She knew his type. As soon as he fucked her, he wouldn't give her a second thought.

Needing to clear her head, she texted Harry and Ron to see if they wanted to come over to study. Ron had a date, but Harry had readily agreed, bringing over a pile of books with him. Hermione made a little space on her kitchen table for her friend.

Secretly, she was glad that it was just Harry for a change, knowing that her friendship with Ron was still a little bit too odd since they had decided they were better off as friends, and he would be sulking to hear about her date. Harry was perhaps her oldest friend, and he was a bit more focused with his academics, if only a bit, than Ron, which she appreciated.

"So, how was your date last night?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised over his round glasses, once they had gotten settled in. "Did you get a goodnight kiss?" he teased.

Instantly, Hermione blushed, her head going a bit fuzzy once more from the thought of Rabastan's kiss. "Oh, well, the date with Cormac was terrible - I walked out on him," she said her shoulders slumping a bit. "We didn't click as well as I thought we did."

"Good," Harry said with a snort. "I'm glad that you left if he was being a jerk. Sometimes you are too nice."

"Yeah, well, he followed me and he wouldn't leave me alone when I went to get some dinner," Hermione said twirling her pen in her hand. It seemed infinitely more interesting to her in the moment than Harry's far too perceptive green eyes. "I was lucky my neighbor happened to be walking by and he helped me get home."

"Is this the new neighbor that Ginny was telling me about? God, I didn't think that Hagrid would ever find someone to fill that dump," Harry asked, leaning back in his chair, his hands laced behind his head. "Apparently he's super _dreamy_."

"He's...not bad," Hermione said, biting her lower lip. She was certainly attracted to the man, but it just didn't seem right to talk about _that_ with Harry. "I don't know what to think about him. He always leaves me feeling off kilter."

Harry raised his eyebrows once more, but didn't say anything, waiting for Hermione to elaborate.

"He kissed me last night," she said, her cheeks flushing at the words. "Which...well, I am just worried that he is ...he's not like the other guys I've dated."

"Hermione, you've only dated one person, and that was Viktor _and_ that was eight years ago," Harry deadpanned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I've gone on dates!" Hermione answered indignantly, though she knew that what Harry was saying was true. It wasn't as if she had a lot of experience. "I just mean...he is really coming on strong - hot and heavy. And I am just nervous that if I give him what he wants, he will never speak to me again. I'm just not _ready_ for that kind of a relationship."

Harry sighed. "Hermione, _that's_ not a relationship, that's called a one-night stand," he said authoritatively. "Well, good, you shouldn't...just because he walked you home _doesn't_ mean he's entitled to you. So, I think you should just forget it. You don't want to be with someone who is pressuring you into doing something you don't want."

Hermione's heart softened. Somehow, Harry had grown into a protective older brother figure, even though she was nearly a year older than him and had gotten him out of trouble more often than not. It was sweet that he didn't want her to get hurt, but she wondered if he would be happier if she never dated anyone. "The thing is, I just don't _know_ that all he wants is a one-night stand. He keeps trying to tell me that he likes me."

"How can he like you?" Harry questioned, before scowling, realizing how terrible his comment sounded. "I just mean...well, he's only _just_ moved in right. I doubt that he's been able to truly learn and appreciate what a wonderful woman you are. I just...don't want you to get hurt, Hermione."

Biting her lower lip, Hermione thought that Harry was probably right. "Alright. I know what you mean," she answered with a nod.

"And if he really likes you, well, he'll show you eventually. You can always change your mind," Harry counseled her, sounding far more confident than she felt.

"Of course Harry," Hermione agreed, before returning to her notes. She just hoped that they could keep this little conversation between them. She couldn't imagine the kind of blow up Ron would have over it. "Oh, and Harry? Can you not tell Ginny about the kiss? She sort of implied that if things didn't go well with Cormac I at least had an alternative with Rabastan, and you know how annoying she can be when she's right."

Harry snorted in response. "Don't I know it," he agreed. "Yeah, your secret is safe with me."

The pair of old friends quickly became reabsorbed into their studying, until the alarm on Harry's phone finally went off. "Wow, is that really the time?" Harry questioned, rolling his back and cracking his spine over her chair. "Sorry, Hermione, I really have to get going. Got dinner plans with Sirius."

Hermione nodded, helping her friend pack up his belongings so that he could return home. She thanked him once again for his advice, though she felt as if the issue was even less resolved than it was before she'd spoken to him. Something about Harry telling her to forget about Rabastan only made her more curious about him

After Harry left, only giving her more to think about that when he had first come over, Hermione had decided to dig back into her work. It helped that there was a steady drizzle outside, making her want to hole up on the couch and act as though she were dead to the world.

She'd ordered Chinese and was waiting patiently for her lo mein noodles to arrive when she heard a pounding on the front door. Excited to finally have some dinner, Hermione eagerly shuffled to the doorway, opening the door, only to see the last person that she suspected.

Or really, maybe she should suspect him at this point.

The open door was letting in a chill, but Hermione was stuck staring at Rabastan. The tall man was wearing his trademark leather jacket in the pouring rain and he held a tiny grey kitten in his outstretched hands. Immediately, she narrowed her eyes, wondering just what he was playing at. "If this is another one of your insane attempts to win my heart, don't bother." Hermione said to her neighbor.

She had to admit, Rabastan did seem to be trying all sorts of traditional moves to woo her, but Hermione was suspicious that they were little more than tricks to try and get in her pants. Flowers, expensive wine, telling her he could get cocaine if she wanted it... even when he'd saved her from Cormac at the chip shop...they all seemed perfectly chivalrous on their face, but after the way he'd behaved the day that they first met, she was inclined to believe that he was trying to make her fall for him, just so he could fuck her.

But Rabastan still hadn't wormed his way into her heart yet.

The grey ball of fur was mewling in his arms, it's wet fur matted down. "No, I found him. And he looked so helpless, I wanted…he can stay with me," the man said in a rush, pushing his own wet hair back out of his face. "Only, I realized I don't know anything about kittens, fuck, I don't even have milk in my flat!" he trailed off with a wry laugh. "Then I remembered you have a cat, so…"

Hermione did feel her heart melt a little bit, seeing such a tough guy with the little kitten in his arms, who seemed quite content to stay wrapped in Rabastan's body warmth. "Alright, come in," she said, without having to think on it too long. She moved out of the doorway to let him come in.

Once Rabastan was inside, Hermione held out her hands to take the little cat. "Let me see him," she requested. The kitten looked upset to be separated from Rabastan, but quickly settled in Hermione's arms. "He's all wet...we should give him a quick bath before drying him off."

Rabastan nodded, willing to do whatever she said in this instance. He bent over, pulling off muddy looking boots and leaving his leather jacket behind as well. "I was out for a ride, and I found him near a storm drain," he explained, quickly, following her from the entrance back into her bedroom. He paused a moment when he realized where they were, looking at her dirty clothes that hadn't quite made it into the hamper, but didn't give any lascivious comments about her knickers. "I couldn't leave him."

Hermione felt her heart clench when she realized that Rabastan was feeling as though he needed to _explain_ why he would have helped such an innocent little creature like the kitten. Turning on the water in her bathtub, she waited until it was an appropriate warmth for the kitten. "It was good of you to rescue him," Hermione said honestly to Rabastan. "Just think...he probably would have died out there if you hadn't helped him."

Moving quickly, Hermione lathered her hands with a tiny drop of shampoo and rubbed it into the kitten's matted fur, muddy water flowing down the drain. Not wanting to put the poor creature through more tramua than necessary, she finished the bath as quickly as she could before asking Rabastan to bring her a clean towel. Gently as she could, Hermione dried off the kitten as much as possible.

To her amusement, the kitten was tougher than she would have expected, his tiny claws swiping at the fabric of the towel while he mewled indignantly at the treatment. It made Hermione laugh. She looked at Rabastan. "He's just like you - a little rough around the edges," she teased. "He's probably been fighting in alleys."

"Kindred spirits," Rabastan agreed with a smirk, before rescuing the still slightly damp kitten from her towel, pulling it to his broad chest. Immediately, the kitten calmed down once again, and began purring loudly the closer he was. His damp little body was making Rabastan's white shirt clingy and slightly see-through, and Hermione quickly realized that she was _staring_ at him.

Clearing her throat, Hermione decided that sitting on her bathroom floor was probably not the ideal place to be hanging out with her hot neighbor. "Let's go to the kitchen," she said abruptly, hoping that Rabastan couldn't sense where her thoughts were headed. "Crooks has got some wet food for when he's being especially good. We can give the kitten some of that. I'm sure he's hungry."

Rabastan's face softened when the tiny kitten meowed up at him. He stood from the floor, following her through the flat. "Thank you so much, Hermione," he said, sounding truly grateful. "I really don't know what I would have done without your help."

Hermione shook her head, before digging around in the cupboards, looking for Crookshanks special food, and grabbing two cans. Crookshanks would be far too jealous of the kitten and try to steal it's food if he didn't have his own. "Don't worry about it," Hermione waved him off. "I think it's really sweet that you helped him. Speaking of...what are you going to call him?" she wondered, thinking it was rather rude to keep calling the kitten "him".

"I hadn't given it too much thought," Rabastan revealed, having been so busy with trying to keep the kitten alive.

Before he could speak on it more, Hermione heard the doorbell ring. "Oh, that's my food, I'll be right back," she said, before hurrying down the front hall. When she returned to the room with her Chinese in hand, Rabastan was sitting on the floor with the kitten, who was eagerly into the can of cat food. "I've got dinner. Do you want some? There's more than enough," she questioned. "I swear I don't _always_ eat takeaways."

Rabastan laughed at that, but agreed that some dinner would be nice. "Hey, it's a helluva lot better than what I normally eat," he explained. "I haven't been to a proper grocery store yet since I've been out. I usually just go to the corner store and get a frozen pizza," he said sounding miserable.

Hermione wondered how much of his life must feel odd after ten years in prison. How banal going to a grocery story must seem after having practically every decision made for you nearly your entire adult life. Rabastan needed time to adjust, but he also probably needed help adjusting to the way the world was now...new technology, new slang, new issues. He just needed a helping hand, not unlike the kitten.

They sat at the kitchen table, bowls in front of each of them, while they dug into the lo mein, Crookshanks watching the new kitten with interest. Rabastan laughed as he continually pushed the can across the floor, greedily trying to get more food. "I think I'm going to call him Salazar," he said, a bit of wonder in his voice.

"Salazar?" Hermione questioned, a bit incredulously. "Well, I suppose that I can't say too much. I do have a cat called Crookshanks."

After they had finished their dinner, Hermione and Rabastan moved into the living room and she showed Rabastan how to brush Salazar. Flipping the television on, she was amused to see Rabastan _and_ Salazar become entranced with the Top Gear marathon that BBC2 was running. Apparently, Rabastan had never heard of it before.

Hermione settled down on the floor, with her books in front of her, working on editing her latest essay, hoping to throw in a few more supporting quotes to bolster her argument. Salazar seemed utterly content to spend the whole night curled up in a ball on Rabastan's chest, purring away.

Before long, she heard snores in addition to the little purrs and turned around, only to find Rabastan dead asleep, stretched out on her couch, his legs nearly too long. It was such a heart melting scene that Hermione had to stop a second to savor the image, something that she was sure would be ingrained in her memory for a long time.

Yes, Rabastan was an ex-convict, but that didn't mean that he didn't deserve a second chance. He was trying to turn over a new leaf, and it was wrong for Hermione to continually assume what his motives were. After all, he'd certainly surprised her with his gentle treatment of Salazar. Perhaps, she had been wrong to assign motives to his wooing of her too. Maybe he really had been sincere when he told her he liked her?

Knowing that she really should wake him, Hermione couldn't bare the thought of destroying the cute scene that the two of them made together. Instead, she pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, placing it over Rabastan's legs. Salazar gave a contented yawn, which made Hermione smile fondly.

Giving the pair one last look, Hermione turned down the hallway towards her own bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you liked last chapter - seriously, what's not to like about a big, tough guy with a sweet little kitten? I hope that you like what I've got next. You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter six and be on the lookout for chapter seven soon!

* * *

Hermione woke up the next day to a curious little Salazar batting gently at her face, perhaps trying to get her attention. Opening her eyes, she was unable to stop her grin at the tiny grey kitten who was perched on her chest, and gave him a little scratch behind the ears. Immediately, the little kitten began to purr and stretch, rubbing his furry body against her neck.

Turning, she looked to see Crookshanks giving her a traitorous glare at the attention she was giving the new cat. "Don't worry, Crooks. Salazar couldn't replace you in my eyes, no matter how cute he is," she spoke to the orange cat. Sitting up, she cradled the kitten against her chest, before standing up from the bed. "Salazar is probably just hungry again, aren't you? Let's go see about getting you a treat."

Setting the kitten down on the floor, she pulled her robe off of the back of her door, tying it loosely around her waist. She wasn't sure if Rabastan was still in the house, but she didn't want to give him a show in her tiny pajamas if she didn't have to. Walking purposefully towards the kitchen, she smiled hearing Salazar meow at her and follow into the kitchen, eager for his next meal.

Yawing, Hermione peered into the living room and found Rabastan still asleep on her couch, one arm raised over his face to block out the sun and one leg half hanging off the edge of the couch. _That doesn't look comfortable_ , she thought to herself, before continuing onto the kitchen. Hermione reached up into the cabinet to find more of the dry food feeling Salazar press little paws against her leg in his eagerness to be fed. "Yes, I've heard you," Hermione whispered to the cat fondly. "Just wait a second."

Placing the open can onto the ground, the kitten dug in greedily, and Hermione prepared Crookshanks his own wet food, thinking that her orange cat was getting rather spoiled with all the treats. Reaching down to the give Crookshanks an affectionate squeeze, she hoped that he wasn't feeling too jealous about the other cat in the house, especially seeing as it was only temporary. "You know I love you best, don't you?" she asked him.

A snort of amusement caught her off-guard, and Hermione spun around, coming face to face with a sheepish looking Rabastan. "Do you always talk to your cat?" he asked.

"You just wait, soon you will be talking to Salazar," she countered, knowing that it was a bit odd. However, it was a way to combat some of the loneliness of living alone. "Besides, I am _positive_ that he understands me sometimes." Hermione's eyes trailed over his arms, no longer covered by his leather jacket, and she was intrigued by the tattoos that he had on his forearms, including one of a snake that curled around, ending around his thumb.

Rabastan yawned loudly. "Wow, this is just about the earliest that I've been awake since I've been out," he told her. "Got any coffee?"

Hermione nodded, trying not to ogle the man too much, and got to work fiddling with the machine so that she'd have something to focus on. It didn't take too long for the coffee machine to beep, and Hermione poured each of them a cup. Turning to hand it to him, she found Rabastan staring out of the kitchen window, showing the great vantage it had of his bit of the garden.

Seeing her red cheeks and guilty gaze, Rabastan smirked at her in amusement. "Great view you've got there, babe," he teased. "You spend much time looking out here?"

She pursed her lips. "I mean, if I happen to be _walking by_ the window, I might look out of it, but it's not as if...I don't make a habit of - it's not like I'm _spying_ on you," she babbled, trying to explain and not sound like a total creep, despite the fact that she _had_ been watching him with some regularity.

"Hey, don't worry, I was just teasing," Rabastan responded, perhaps wondering if he'd pressed her too hard. He took the coffee mug from her hands gratefully, taking a drink, before setting it down on the counter. Leaning back, his light green eyes looked her up and down, appreciating the long leg that was revealed by her pajamas. "Thanks for all your help yesterday. And for letting me crash here."

Hermione shook her head, smiling. "It was nothing. I was happy to help you with Sal," she said, peeking over her shoulder at the kitten who was still whiskers deep in his can of food.

"If I could further impose on your generosity...I'm sure there are all sorts of things that I need to pick up for that little runt," he said, giving her a hopeful look. "Would you help me get it? I'm sure that there are about a hundred things that I haven't even thought about."

"Of course," Hermione agreed readily, her eyes softening when she looked at him. "The shop I go to for Crookshanks should be opening soon. We can go this morning."

"And I'll take you to breakfast," he said suddenly, the words rushing out of his mouth. "I mean, as a thank you, for being so helpful." He ran his hand through his dark hair, making Hermione's breath catch in her throat. "Besides, I owe you for helping me out with my Oyster card, too."

He looked so hopeful, almost childlike, in his eagerness to take her out. Hermione bit her lower lip, wondering if this was a date. Then again, it was only breakfast, not your typical date venue. But, he _had_ spent the night at her's, even if it was just on her couch. He looked so utterly sexy and at home standing in her kitchen, Hermione found herself readily agreeing. "I'd...like that Rabastan," she said, cautiously, wanting to give the man a chance. "Just let me change and I will meet you out front in a few minutes?"

"What about Salazar?" he asked, seeing that the little kitten was not nearly ready to give up his food dish any time soon.

Hermione shrugged. "Oh, you can leave him here for now and then get him when we get back," she suggested. "Besides, I think Crookshanks might like the company." While she wasn't _entirely_ sure if that was the truth, she knew she'd be able to make to up to her elderly cat with catnip and belly rubs later.

Once it was agreed, Rabastan left out the front door, taking his muddy boots with him, while Hermione retreated to her own room to change out of her pajamas and into something a bit more respectable. She wore jeans and an oversized sweater, tying her hair up into a ponytail that was just barely able to contain her wild hair. She hurried outside, only to find Rabastan waiting wearing his usual leather jacket with a soft looking green t-shirt.

He turned around when he heard her coming down the stairs, only to give her a bit of a dumbfounded look. "You look really nice," he said with a shy smile. "Like I'd like to cuddle up to you on a couch all afternoon and read."

Hermione flushed pink, thinking that the picture he painted sounded lovely, but she wondered just how accurate it was. "Really? You'd like to read?" she asked, thinking that he didn't really seem the intellectual type.

"Well, maybe you read, and I watch more of that Top Gear," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets, as though he were worried he might want to reach out and hold her hand. "Or I could read a magazine on motorcycles, I'm not particular."

She laughed at that, figuring it was true that he didn't need to be reading some heavy book just to spend the afternoon reading. Leading the way down the block, wanting to take him to the greasy spoon not far away. The morning was bright, but cool, the ground still wet from the rain the day before.

"I actually read a lot in prison," he said after a few beats of silence passed between them. "There wasn't actually much else to do if you wanted to stay out of trouble."

"And did you? Stay out of trouble, I mean," Hermione asked, realizing that she never would have thought about what someone does while they were in prison for ten years. It wasn't as if he could just turn on the telly or watch the match of the week or travel. They would have very limited options of how to keep busy.

"I tried to of course, but every now and again you have to show everyone that you aren't to be messed with," he said, staring at her face to gauge her reactions. "But I mostly spent my free time lifting weights or reading. Thought about trying to do the whole degree thing for a while, but couldn't find anything that really interested me."

Hermione made a little noise, but she really couldn't imagine not being able to find _something_ that interested you enough to get a degree in it. Really, she was more distracted by his comments about lifting weights, knowing exactly how he looked under his shirts from forbidden glimpses she'd stolen when he was working in the back garden and felt her breath speed up a bit at the thought. "Well, schooling isn't for everyone I suppose," she said, diplomatically.

By that time, they had finally reached the restaurant and Hermione went in first, with Rabastan trailing behind her. They found a spot at the counter easily enough and both ordered a scramble for themselves. Sitting so close to one another, Hermione could again feel his leg pressed against hers and she wondered if he was doing it on purpose, wondered if he knew how the physical contact made her heartbeat speed up a bit faster every time.

"So, you were finally able to get your bike working?" she asked, remembering that he'd said he'd found Salazar when he was out on a ride the day before.

Rabastan nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it was the first time that I took it out. Of course, I've still got a ton of work to do on it. You'd be surprised how much needs to be tinkered with after sitting unused for ten years," he told her, his face lighting up when he told her about something that he was obviously very passionate about. He explained all of the things he'd repaired so far between bites of hashbrown and fried tomato, his face filled with a childlike exuberance.

"You should come for a ride with me sometime," he said, nudging her with his shoulder playfully. "I think that you'd really enjoy it."

"Oh, I don't know, it seems awfully scary," Hermione said, nibbling her lower lip.

"I promise that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You'd just have to hold onto me real tight," he told her with a wink.

Hermione blushed immediately thinking of how nice it would be to hold onto him, her hands snaking into his leather jacket to keep warm. She wondered what his abs would feel like through his ubiquitous white t shirts. "Um, well, I suppose-"

Before Hermione could finish her words, she was interrupted by a voice that she certainly wasn't expecting to hear this early on a Sunday. "Just what do we have going on here?" Ronald's loud voice boomed through the cafe, making sure that everyone's attention was on them.

Hermione turned around to come face to face with her two best friends, Harry looking sheepish and Ron's loud behavior. "Just having breakfast, Ronald, same as you I'd wager," Hermione said, wondering what Rabastan must think of them. Did he wonder how she always managed to attract loud, pushy men in her life?

"And who is your... _date?_ " he asked, his eyebrows narrowing in suspicion at the heavily tattooed man that she was sitting with. She supposed that Rabastan was decidedly _not_ her usual type.

She was about to introduce him, but before she could Rabastan was standing up and offering his hand to shake. "Hi, I'm Rabastan Lestrange," he said with a fake smile on his face. "I'm Hermione's new neighbor."

"Yeah well, I'm Ron," Ron answered, shaking Rabastan's hand with far too much force. "I'm Hermione's - friend," he stumbled over the words, perhaps still hoping that they'd been something more. Hermione sighed, hating that he was doing this. It seemed like Ron only ever got jealous when someone else was interested in her. But, she didn't appreciate his territorial display when he had absolutely no claim over her. She was a grown woman and could make choices on her own.

Harry cleared his throat, amused over the extended hand-shaking contest, before offering his own hand to Rabastan. "I'm Harry, I'm Hermione's friend, too," he said, looking Rabastan up and down, though doing a much better job of not seeming like he was trying to size him up for a fight. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione's mentioned you once or twice."

Hermione's cheeks turned bright red at that, hoping that Rabastan didn't think she'd been mooning over him to her friends or anything like that. Instead, Rabastan didn't seem phased at all. "Yeah? Only good things I hope," he said a bit aggressively, as if he were daring Harry to say otherwise. "I'm sure you'll be hearing a lot more about me in the future. Hermione and I have been getting along splendidly."

"I wouldn't count on it mate," Ron said, glaring at the other man. "A bloke like you - the two of you couldn't possibly have much in common."

She was shocked at how terribly this meeting was going and wanted to end the little impromptu confrontation as quickly as possible. "Alright, well, it was great seeing you two. I think that Rabastan are going to get back to our breakfast," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "Bye Harry, Ron. Talk to you later."

"I dunno, Harry. I think we should sit here with Hermione and _Rabastan_ ," Ron countered, before pulling out the seat next to Hermione.

"Actually, Hermione I think we should be on our way," Rabastan said, sounding apologetic, but appearing anything but. He pulled out his wallet and threw a couple of bills onto the counter. He wrapped his arm around her waist in a possessive move, but Hermione couldn't find it in herself to tell him off after the deplorable way that Ron had acted. Instead, she found herself leaning into his side, enjoying the way the heat from his hand radiated into her side.

Trying to hide a smirk from the dazed look on Ron's face, Hermione bid her two friends goodbye. "See you guys later. Text me?" she asked, but let Rabastan lead her out of the restaurant before she could hear either of their replies.

By the time that they were outside, Rabastan made no move to remove his arm from where it was holding her tight against his body, and Hermione didn't make a move to wiggle her way out. It was _nice_. And really, she was just pleased that he still wanted anything to do with her after how crazy her friends seemed. "I'm so sorry about that," she apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Rabstan said with a snort. "Despite their best efforts, neither one of your friends was very intimidating to _me_." He seemed to walk a bit taller after that. "So, there was something between you and the ginger one then?"

Hermione sighed, wondering how best to answer the question. "We've been friends for ages, who always seemed to like the other one at the wrong time. But, as I've grown to see how immature he is, well, the attraction sort of fizzled out on my end. We've agreed that we are better off as just friends," she told him smartly, only to be dismayed with Rabastan gave her an incredulous look. "It's true!"

"Well, he's certainly _jealous_ enough that he seemed like a scorned ex. Maybe he wasn't as much in agreement as you were," Rabastan countered with a look that seemed to suggest he knew what he was talking about.

She considered his words carefully, and wondered if he was maybe right. "It doesn't matter what _he_ is in agreement with. I don't want to date him anymore," she said with a finality that she didn't know she possessed. It was true that she didn't want to, but it felt good to say it out loud, affirming the feelings that she knew she felt. "I don't owe him anything."

Rabastan gave her an appreciative look, admiring the way that she seemed to know exactly what she wanted. And perhaps he was just a little bit glad that it was not Ron that she wanted. Giving her a small smile, he deftly changed the subject. "Alright, where is the pet store? I've got a little critter that needs all sorts of supplies and treats."

Hermione returned his grin. "Yes, treats are very important. You are already learning what it takes to be a successful cat owner," she teased him. "It's just right around the corner." As they walked along the pavement together, Hermione was surprised to realize that talking with Rabastan had put her completely at ease after the intense confrontation with her friends.

She really liked him far more than she should.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so pleased that you guys are enjoying this interesting little tale, and I think that you will enjoy this chapter, too - time to insert a little bit of drama :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates, and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter seven and be on the lookout for chapter eight soon!

* * *

By the time Hermione and Rabastan had left the pet store, their arms were laden with numerous toys and treats for the little kitten that had weaseled its way into Rabastan's heart. Hermione had tried not to stare too hard as he balanced a bag of litter on his shoulder as though it weighed nothing at all. "Wow, you're so good at that," she'd choked out nervously. "Maybe I should get you to do all my heavy lifting."

Rabastan had laughed at that, his light green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just say the word babe, and I will come running," he flirted back, making Hermione's cheeks turn pink once again. She knew that Rabastan was interested in her, but she was completely unused to being pursued in such a manner. She couldn't lie and pretend that she didn't enjoy it.

Hermione quickly found herself realizing how much she was enjoying spending time with Rabastan, getting to know more about him, and she didn't want her morning with him to be over yet. If they returned home now, she was sure that he would retreat down into the basement apartment, leaving her alone with all of her books. Then, she remembered how he'd said he was only subsisting on frozen pizzas since he'd gotten out of prison.

"I, um...I usually go grocery shopping on Sundays," she said, conversationally, peeking up at him out of the corner of his eyes, trying to gage his reaction. "Would you want to swing by the store while we are out?"

Rabastan gave her a crooked smile, as though grocery shopping sounded like the greatest afternoon activity in the world. "That'd be great," he answered quickly. "Then I can help you carry back your grocery bags too."

She could feel her stomach swoop at the confident way that he teased and flirted with her, liking him so much more than she anticipated, especially after their first disastrous meeting together. "Haha, Rabastan," she deadpanned back. "I'm a capable woman who can carry her own groceries."

"But then you wouldn't be able to look at my arms," he retorted, drinking in her flabbergasted reaction eagerly.

"I wasn't - I didn't-" she stuttered out, trying to form a response to his jibe.

He laughed, putting her out of her misery. "It's okay, I don't mind. At least having a good physique is _one_ benefit of coming out of the prison system," he explained quickly, before returning the conversation to safer topics. Perhaps he was realizing that he couldn't push her too far too fast without scaring her off. "It will be nice to have some real food at home, too. It's been so long since I had an actual meal. Prison food is always gross."

"I would have thought that would have been one of the first things that you would do on getting out," Hermione wondered aloud. "Try to partake in all the things that you couldn't when you were in. I can't imagine not having my favorite meal for ten years."

Rabastan shrugged his shoulders. "I had bigger things to try and sort out immediately after. It's hard trying to reset your life like that...find somewhere to live, get a new job. Everyone I used to know is so different know, and my home is no longer my home," he said wistfully, wishing for the good old days. "Some of my best friends have moved away, and my favorite restaurant closed down."

"What was it? Your favorite restaurant," Hermione asked, nibbling on her lower lip. She wanted to soak up every bit of information on her neighbor, interested about his life before prison as much as she was interested in his life now.

"This place called Zabini's. The woman who owned it was this bloody gorgeous Italian woman, who seemed to get married every year to a different guy. Never figured out how she got so many blokes to propose to her, let alone keep marrying her," Rabastan said with a melancholy look on his face, as though he were remembering her. "She made a bolognese like you wouldn't believe. God, I still remember how good it smelled."

Hermione smiled, loving how carried away Rabastan could get about things that he genuinely enjoyed. "That _sounds_ wonderful," she told him, genuinely. "It's a shame that it closed down. Perhaps she's just moved her restaurant?"

"I don't think so," Rabastan said, sounding disappointed, and Hermione wondered if he knew something that he wasn't letting on. "What's _your_ favorite food, then? If you were locked up, what would be the first thing that you ran out to get?"

"Oh, I'm not entirely sure," Hermione said, thinking through all of the meals that she really enjoyed. "Maybe my mum's macaroni and cheese. Or else, there was a really great deli near where I grew up that makes a smashing turkey reuben." Thinking of her mum's macaroni had her feeling suddenly homesick. It had been many years since she her mum had made that for her, long before her parents decided to move to Australia.

"That sounds nice," Rabastan said, sounding a bit stifled.

Hermione wondered if he was remembering his own mum, and she wondered what the woman would be like. After all, two of her sons had been sent to prison for attempted murder. She wondered what kind of life that she lived, or if she'd still been in a teenage Rabastan's life. Had she visited him and his brother while they were in prison? Written them letters? Hermione didn't really think that she knew him well enough to ask.

The bright purple of the grocery store beckoned them inside of the cold store. "This is where I do most of my shopping. It's not the cheapest place you _could_ go, but it's close and convenient. The produce is always great," Hermione babbled on, leading him towards the tomatoes, before putting a few in one of the thin plastic bags. She didn't know how to make a bolognese, but she made a damn good lasagne according to Harry and Ron.

Though, Ron was a bit of a garbage disposal, so she didn't know how strongly she should take his word on things.

She brainstormed with Rabastan about some easy things that he could make for himself, grabbing an odd assortment of fruit, granola bars, pasta and canned soups. It seemed that Rabastan had never learned to cook for himself - which, really, when would he have had the time? - so he mainly stuck to old staples, finding milk and eggs, bread and peanut butter. It wasn't gourmet by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a slight step up from carrots.

Hermione was just about to tease him for his supposed love of _baby_ carrots, just about the least manly sounding snack that she could think of, when she heard a clearing throat from beside her. Looking up, Hermione was surprised to come face to face with a dangerous looking couple. The woman was of a similar height to herself, but with wild, crazed eyes and even wilder black hair. She wore a menacing grin that was only exacerbated by the terrible condition of her teeth. The man - Hermione felt her breath leave her when she realized that he looked a bit like Rabastan, only with a fuller beard and blue eyes compared to green.

She took an abrupt step back from the pair, stumbling into Rabastan, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders to help steady her. "Whoa, are you okay, babe?" he asked, a serene smile on his face, clearly still not aware of their company.

"Rabby, aren't you going to introduce us to your little girlfriend?" the woman asked, putting on a baby voice that only made her seem more sinister. The couple wore black leather jackets, same as Rabastan did, and Hermione's mind was churning overtime realizing that they could be none other than his partners in crime, his brother and sister-in-law.

Rabastan straightened up at that, his back ramrod straight, while he pushed Hermione away from his body. But the damage was already done. The other man's eyes were focused firmly on her face, drinking in every feature that identified her as herself, a slow smirk spreading on his face.

Her neighbor turned to look at her, his green eyes conveying all the seriousness that he seemed to possess. "Babe, why don't you go pick out a pizza," he said, making it clear to her that she should get far away from the pair.

Hermione nodded dumbly, walking away, not raising to the bait of the woman whining that she wanted to talk to Rabastan's new girlfriend.

Rabastan did not relax, even when Hermione had disappeared down one of the aisles, knowing that his brother had watched her every step away. "So you've already had time to shack up with a little tart, but you didn't even have time to tell your big brother that you were out," his brother asked, crossing his arms over his chest, shaking his head at Rabastan. "I'm disappointed in you Rabastan. I thought that _family_ meant more to you than this."

"I'm not shaking up with her, Rodolphus," he answered snappishly, leaving his brother to wonder if he were upset that he _wasn't_ living with Hermione or if he were just trying to deflect. "I'm not even fucking her. She's just my friend."

"Pathetic," Rodolphus said, smirking at his little brother. "You always _did_ have trouble sealing the deal, though, so I don't know why I should be so surprised."

Rabastan knew that Rodolphus was just trying to unsettle him, leaving him feeling unbalanced and adrift so that he'd have no choice but to rely on his brother to anchor him. But, that didn't mean that his words didn't hurt. It wasn't as though he were some socially inept poindexter. He'd had girlfriends before in the past, not to mention girls who were up for just a casual tumble in the sheets. Crossing his arms over his chest, he narrowed his eyes at the pair that seemed utterly out of place in the bright light of the supermarket. "What do you want, Dolph?"

"How _dare_ you speak to your brother that way!" Bellatrix, his brother's shrill wife, hissed, drawing the attention of the little old women out just trying to finish their weekly shop.

Rodolphus shook his head slightly. "When _were_ you going to tell us that you'd gotten out?" he asked, pointedly.

Rabastan, unsure of what to say, shrugged his shoulders, feeling more like the young teenager that had just wanted his older brother to spend time with him than he ever had. Looking at Rodolphus and Bellatrix, though, he was reminded that he could _never_ have that sort of relationship with him.

Rodolphus was seven years older than Rabastan had been, and Rabastan had always wanted to follow his brother around when he was little. They'd had a close relationship until Bellatrix came into the picture. Then, the woman had gotten into Rodolphus's head until he was utterly dependent on her. They had an incredibly toxic relationship, and Rabastan unfortunately got pulled into their orbit. They had introduced him to drinking, drugs, stealing, fast motorcycles, and the crew that they ran with - the Death Eaters.

Now, at nearly forty years old, Rabastan struggled to see any of the glamour that he'd thought their lifestyle held. The decade in prison had not done them any favors, and they both looked haggard and old. His brother was too thin, his cheeks hollow, giving his eyes an unpleasant, feral look. He had wrinkles between his eyes and around his lips that showed the perpetual frown that he wore.

"I was just trying to get on my feet," Rabastan finally said, keeping his gaze over towards the produce, feeling the guilt set in that he had more or less ghosted the only living relative that he had left. "It's been harder for me to adjust than I thought it would be."

Bellatrix gave him a shark like grin, showing off her crooked teeth. "Rabby, we're _family_ ," she teased, with a voice like saccharine but was about as soothing as antifreeze. "You know that you could have come to us if you needed help adjusting. The rest of the guys have been dying to see you again."

"We've been through so much together," Rodolphus said, pressing his hand to Rabastan's shoulder - a move that their father had been fond of. "There is no reason to let that relationship rot now. Not when we can finally taste freedom again."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to throw that freedom away again so carelessly," Rabastan snarled back, wrenching his shoulder back from Dolph's grasp. All of the guilt of ignoring his brother evaporated when he remembered the circumstances that had lead him to prison in the first place. It had been Bellatrix and Rodolphus's bad ideas that had landed him in trouble the first time. Of course, he knew that he was just as guilty because he'd participated, but he didn't want to be talked into something stupid again. He was older and, he hoped, wiser. "I've already missed out on enough of my life."

"And we haven't?" Bellatrix questioned, unveiled fury on her face.

Sensing how volatile the situation was becoming, Rodolphus stepped between his wife and his brother. Wrapping an arm around his brother's shoulders, he dropped his voice to a low whisper. "Look, we know that we can count on you," Dolph said quickly. "We can't talk about it _here_ of course, but we have another job. We need your help."

Rabastan shook his head firmly. "Find someone else. Barty's out too - why don't you ask him?" he sneered. "I don't want to do any more _jobs_."

Dolph only pulled him in closer, tighter, not letting Rabastan go. "I think you'll change your mind when you remember that you _owe_ me, Rabastan," he said, menacingly. "I'm your brother. We're family. We're meant to depend on one another. And I know that I can depend on you for help with this, Rab."

He let his brother go then, straightening the younger man's jacket with a false smile on his face. "We'll be in touch, Rabastan," he said finally, after taking a calming breath. "Expect to see us again _real_ soon."

"And say goodbye to your little _girlfriend_ , Rabby," Bellatrix said with a laugh. "It's a real shame that we didn't get to talk to her much this time. But, I'm sure we will get to know her real well."

After the couple left him standing alone, Rabastan felt dread settle in his stomach. He'd not been looking forward to coming face to face with his brother and sister-in-law again, but he'd known it had been inevitable. He just wished it hadn't had to happen while he was with Hermione. Rodolphus and Bellatrix were very dangerous - hell, _he_ was dangerous - and he knew that Hermione didn't deserve to be exposed to them.

Walking through the store, he found Hermione waiting for him in the frozen foods, holding a pepperoni pizza. She seemed relieved to see him, her eyes wide and concerned. "Is everything alright, Rabastan?" she asked, in her precious little voice.

He faked a smile and nodded. "Yeah, just...old friends," he lied. "I wasn't expecting to see them again. Come on, let's get out of here," he suggested, before pushing their trolley towards the front of the store. They went through the check out line in silence, Rabastan feeling too upset, too mad at himself for exposing Hermione to his brother. He felt a bit of comfort to know that they didn't know _who_ she was yet. She was so good and sweet, just a student, and he'd muddied her with his past.

They left the store after that, Rabastan balancing the cat litter on one shoulder, and carrying his and Hermione's grocery bags in his other hand. She chattered away, asking him questions, but quickly realized that he was too distracted with his thoughts to answer, before falling into a silence to match his own. Their walk back was not nearly as pleasant as the rest of the morning had been.

When they reached their flats, Rabastan stepped into Hermione's warm, inviting home to retrieve Salazar, who was snuggled in a sunbeam with Crookshanks. She had cooed at the sight and commented about hating to break up the precious pair.

"Listen, about what happened at the store...do you want to stay and talk about?" she offered, nibbling away at her lower lip, the way that she did when she was nervous about something. "I could put on the kettle and we could have some tea?"

Rabstan _nearly_ flattered, thinking that he would love to have someone to talk to about his fucked up past, but Hermione had already done too much for him in the last day, and he didn't want to take advantage of her. Besides, the clock that ticked above her head reminded him that it was nearly time for his shift at work, and he couldn't chance being late so early into his employment.

He put a sly grin on his face, hoping to put her mind at ease. "Wish I could stay, babe, but I've got work," he said smoothly, only to feel his heart clench when he saw how her face fell, how much her shoulders drooped at his rejection.

"Oh, okay," she said, looking up at him with hurt eyes. "I've got a lot of studying to do anyway."

"It's not you, I promise Hermione," he said, hoping to make things up. "My shift starts in less than an hour. I _did_ have a great time with you today. And, I'm sure I'll be bothering you again real soon," he told her honestly, wanting nothing more than to reassure her.

It was difficult to leave her alone, but he knew that it was necessary. He lingered at the door for as long as he could, before he finally slipped out, tiny grey kitten in his arms, with ideas in his head of what excuse he could use to see her again.

As soon as possible.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I can't believe we are already on chapter eight of this story! Just a heads up, there will be 15 chapters, so we are just a little over halfway through it! I really hope that you enjoy what this chapter has in store :) You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eight and be on the lookout for chapter nine soon!

* * *

It had been one week since the odd run in with Rabastan's brother at the grocery store, and Hermione had not seen seen her elusive neighbor, despite all of her best wishes. The only time that she'd even caught a glance of him it was only his back. He'd been working on his motorcycle once again, a greasy bandana hanging out of the back pocket of his jeans. By the time she'd gone outside to her own garden to try to speak to him over the wall, he'd gone inside.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if perhaps Rabastan was avoiding her. The realization that she _missed_ him had come on suddenly one evening. It caught her completely off-guard. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but her heart had slowly been warming to the forward man.

She wanted to know how he was adjusting to things with Salazar. Were they still snuggling together every night? She wanted to know if he'd been back to the grocery store once again or had he relapsed into his frozen pizza culinary skills. Mostly, she missed talking to him about anything and everything, getting to know more insights about him.

At first, she'd been so taken aback by his amorous attitude towards her, but she'd come to miss his flirty banter and the way that his light green eyes would linger on her form, not even trying to hide that he was checking her out. Forbidden, memories of the time he'd kissed her would come back to her while she was tucked into her bed at night, and she was surprised to find herself wanting to kiss him _again_.

It wasn't until the following Saturday that Rabastan had finally knocked on her door once again. Hermione had to bite the inside of her lip to stop from smiling so broadly. He shouldn't know how much she missed him after he'd ignored her for a whole week. Not without an explanation at least.

Rabastan had his hands shoved in his pockets, a sign of how nervous he was, when Hermione finally opened the door. However, his scruffy face held no hint of anxiousness when he locked eyes with her, instead adorned by a crooked smile that belied his sheepishness. "Hey," he said, looking at her casual studying outfit.

"Hey yourself," Hermione answered, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"I was um, wondering...if you'd like to come over to my place for dinner?" he asked eagerly. "I'm still finding my way around the kitchen, and it would be nice to have the supervision of someone who _definitely_ doesn't eat takeaways all the time."

Hermione laughed despite herself. "Hm, sounds tempting. What's in it for me?" she countered, already knowing that she was going to agree.

"Well, I've got far too much dinner to eat myself, so you'd have a warm meal. You'd also get to play with a rather precocious kitten called Salazar," he said, counting off points on his fingers, drawing her attention to his fingers. "I'd get to make it up to you for dipping out on you the other night. Oh, and you'd get to spend time with me."

She tilted her head to the side as though she were already considering it. "Hm, you've sold me," she said finally, feeling her stomach swoop when she saw how much his face lit up at her agreement. "Just let me grab my shoes." She shut the door before slipping into her trainers and grabbing her keys, before meeting Rabastan back onto the stoop.

She had to admit that she was very curious to see the inside of his flat, having not been in the garden level for many years. She eagerly followed him down the steps, only to be amazed with the delicious smells that hit her when she walked in. "Wow, it smells amazing in her Rabastan. Are you sure you really need my help?" she asked, already feeling impressed.

"Ha, I've barely even gotten through the first step of the recipe," he told her with a shrug of his shoulders. "Talking about Zabinis the other day gave me a real hankering for some bolognese, so I decided to try my hand at it. All I've done so far is browned the meat."

Hermione followed him into the kitchen and saw that he was telling the truth, seeing the large pot on the hob. "Well, what can I help you with?" she asked, wanting something to do with herself so she didn't just gawk at her handsome neighbor.

"How are you at cutting onions?" he asked, showing her the recipe that he'd printed out.

"Pants, I'm afraid," Hermione said with a grin. "It _always_ makes me tear up. I could do the carrots and celery, though," she offered. Rabastan nodded eagerly, before getting her set up with his plastic cutting board and knife. Before long, she was working away at the vegetables, chopping them into even pieces.

When she dumped them into the pot, Rabastan looked at her amazed. In front of him was his own chopped onion, which had pieces of every sort of size, not at all precise. "How did you do that?" he asked, sounding astonished. "I could barely even hold the onion straight!"

Hermione laughed with him, before wrapping her hand around the hand that held his knife, showing him the technique she used to methodically chop the onion into more manageable pieces. She tried not to blush when his face became very serious, enjoying the feeling of holding his hand. Once it was done, they dumped the onion into the pot as well, before leaving it to stew for a bit.

"You want wine?" he asked, motioning to an unopened bottle of red. "It's not as nice as what we had before, but its not total swill either."

She nodded eagerly, slipping into one of the chairs at the tiny kitchen table that was pressed against the wall. She bit her lower lip while she watched his long fingers working to uncork the bottle and pour her a glass. "So, the other day you said you had work, and I realized that I am such a terrible neighbor, I don't even know what you do," she pressed, wanting to get some more information on him.

Rabastan handed her a glass, before sitting in the chair opposite her. "I work as a bouncer at a bar not far from here. Just checking IDs, that sort of thing," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"It doesn't seem like something you are that excited about?" Hermione asked, before realizing how stupid that sounded. She figured that there were very few people who thought it was their life's calling to be a bouncer, and the reason that he worked there probably had more to do with his recent release from prison. Even though they weren't supposed to discriminate, she didn't doubt that some people would take a look at his record and then throw his application in the trash.

He gave her a hopeful smile. "It pays the bills, and it's fairly steady work. The hours aren't terrible, though sometimes I feel a bit like a creature of the night, getting home so late and sleeping in until the afternoon," he explained.

Hermione laughed at his characterization, before shaking her head. "Surely there is something else that you might like to do more?" she questioned, hoping that she wasn't treading into any uncomfortable topics with him. "What are you good at?"

"Well, I'm pretty handy with my motorcycle, actually," he said, sounding thoughtful. "I think I might like to be a mechanic, but I don't exactly have the training for it."

She smiled at him encouragingly, _knowing_ just how much he must like working with his motorcycle considering how often he was out in the back garden. There was something about Rabastan that just seemed right with a bit of grease smudged on his hands, holding a wrench. "I think it would suit you. Maybe once you get settled, you could see what kind of training you would need. You don't have to have _everything_ figured out right away, Rabastan," she encouraged him, reaching over the table to give his hand a little squeeze in hers.

He brightened up at the physical contact, opening his hand and threading his fingers through her's, his thumb tracing idle patterns on the inside of her wrist. "You're right," he said softly, his green eyes never leaving her face. "I've just gotta keep making steps forward. I don't have to jump right in."

Hermione blushed, wondering if he was talking about his life after prison, or if he were speaking more about this tentative relationship that they were tiptoeing on together. Before she could answer him, their timer was going off, signaling the need to add in the tomatoes. She stood abruptly, returning to her cutting board to try and put a little distance between the two of him. Rabastan made her feel warm and giddy, unlike any boy she'd ever had a crush on before.

After they set up the final timer to let them know when the sauce would be done, they returned to the table and talked idly about Hermione's classes. Rabastan didn't seem to have much context for some of the history that she was studying, but it seemed like he was mostly just eager to listen to her talk, with a dumb, lovestruck look on her face. At some point, Salazar leapt into his lap, snuggling into a tiny ball that really did have Hermione's heart melting.

He cleared his throat after a bit, giving Salazar a tiny scratch behind the ears that had the kitten preening in delight. "I hope that your friends didn't give you too hard of a time after last weekend," he said with a frown. "I hope I didn't embarrass you too much."

"No, you didn't...embarrass me. They were the ones that embarrassed me," Hermione explained. "They'll get over it. Ron is dating a _new_ girl this week, probably trying to show me how over me he is, but he'll come around eventually. We always apologize to each other in the end."

Rabastan looked at her, an unsure look on his face. "Maybe you two need to clear the air. You said that you mutually decided not to date, but if he's still acting so jealous..." he trailed off, before giving her a sly smile. "I'd be happy to sort him out for you, if you need."

Hermione laughed despite herself. "No, no, there is no need to go around punching my friends," she teased. "Harry and Ginny will sort him out if he's still moping."

Before he could respond, there was a furious pounding at the door. Rabastan stood up, confused. He looked out of the peephole, only to be confronted with the warped image of his brother and Bellatrix peering in at them. "Fuck," he muttered to himself, his head dropping to the door.

Returning to the kitchen with a frown on his face, Hermione could easily tell that something had gone wrong. "What is it? Has something happened?" she asked, standing up, looking concerned.

"I'm so very sorry, Hermione, but I'll have to cut this short. My brother and his wife are here and..." he trailed off, looking guilty. "I think it would be better if you left."

"Oh, okay," Hermione said, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. Their evening had been going so well together, and she'd really enjoyed cooking with Rabastan, getting to know him better, feeling little zings of excitement every time they accidentally touched one another.

"It's not-" he licked his lips, trying to verbalize what he was feeling. "It's not that I'm ashamed of you, or anything. It's just...they are not the kind of people that you should be around. They're dangerous, if I'm honest."

Hermione nodded, wanting to tell him that _he_ shouldn't be around them either if they were dangerous. Did he really want all of his hard work to go down the drain? All those years spent in prison? "I'll just slip out the back then," she offered, not wanting to leave, but knowing that she had to respect Rabastan's wishes and go.

"Thanks babe," he said with a grin, only to be startled by more furious pounding that had his front door rattling on its hinges. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, pulling her in for a quick kiss that Hermione was not expecting.

The moment their lips touched, she felt her stomach doing eager flip flops at the sensation. Even though it wasn't really the time or the place, she grabbed at his soft t-shirt, before deepening the kiss, pulling his body flush against hers. Rabastan groaned as he pushed her back against the wall, his tongue slipping past her open lips.

Then, just as soon as it had begun, it was over once again. He pressed his forehead against hers, drinking in the sight of her blown pupils, before dropping his head back in disappointment. "I'll make it up to you," he promised. "Goodbye, Hermione." She sighed, returning his longing look while she walked back towards the door that would lead her into the back garden.

Rabastan finally turned back towards the front door. "Alright, alright, I heard you the first time," he shouted to his impatient brother who waited on the other side of the wood. "Can't you be patient for _once_ in your life, you motherfucker!"

Rodolphus was laughing when Rabastan finally opened the door, perhaps enjoying the discomfort he'd caused his little brother. Before Rabastan could even ask what they were doing there, the pair of them oozed past him into the narrow entryway. "You were harder to find than I expected, Rabby," Bellatrix cooed. "Though, I can't say I'd be shouting my address from the rooftops either, if I lived in a shithole like this."

"Oh, and you live somewhere much nicer do you?" Rabastan sneered at his sister-in-law, knowing that they were probably living in some hovel just the same. At least he had his _own_ roof over his head.

"That smells good, Rab," Rodolphus said, following his nose to towards the kitchen.

Rabastan followed the destructive pair towards the kitchen, where Rodolphus already had the wooden spoon out of the pot and into his mouth. He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I was thinking a lot about home lately," he explained quietly. "I was missing Zabini's."

Rodolphus got a far off look on his face, as if he were imagining the owner of Zabini's right there in front of him. "Damn, do I miss her, too," he said with a half-smile, only to have Bellatrix whack the back of his head on fury.

Once Rodolphus stopped laughing at how jealous his wife was about his apparent appreciation of another woman, his blue eyes settled on the pair of wine glasses on the kitchen table. He frowned, before wrapping an arm around Rabastan's shoulders. "Did you have a little date tonight, Rab?"

Bellatrix caught on quickly enough. "Yeah, where is your little slut, Rabby? Why haven't you introduced us properly?" she prodded, laughing when she saw how upset the line of questioning was making him.

"She _isn't_ a slut, and she left before you two got here," he lied, hoping that they wouldn't realize it.

Rodolphus was pressing him into one of the kitchen chairs, before sitting next to him, invading his personal space. "Don't lie, brother. You don't want us to meet her. What, do you think that you are _better_ than us?" he sneered.

Rabastan shook his head, though internally he agreed. He _was_ better than Rodolphus and Bellatrix, trying to make a better life for himself.

Bella slipped into the chair opposite him, the one that had previously been occupied by Hermione. "Come on, Rabastan, don't fool yourself. That little goodie two shoes doesn't understand you like we do. She'll just get fed up with you and leave you," she said cruelly. "Do you honestly think a little good girl like that will want to introduce _mummy and daddy_ to a felon like you?"

Rabastan swallowed, wanting to think that Hermione wasn't like that, but he didn't know. It wasn't as if they were dating...he didn't even know if she'd want him to be her bloody boyfriend yet. Still, he knew that he would take whatever scraps Hermione sent his way, like a damn dog. He wasn't about to stop pursuing her just because of what might happen.

Rodolphus gave him another squeeze around the shoulders. "We're your _family_ , Rabastan, and we are just trying to do what's best for you," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Let us take care of you, same as we did before prison."

"Last time you _took care of me_ , I ended up doing a dime," Rabastan snarled, knowing that they were only out for themselves, but still feeling fleeting guilt when he was reminded that Rodolphus was his family, the only family that he had left. Families stuck together, didn't they?

"And you _know_ how much I appreciate that, don't you?" Rodolphus questioned, though his sincerity was highly suspect. Rabastan was sure that Rodolphus appreciated him but only as far as he continued to benefit his older brother. "Now, look, Bellatrix and I have an in on a little work that could be very profitable for all of us. Tom's getting out soon, too, and we want to give him the welcome he deserves, don't we?"

Rabastan felt his blood run cold when he _heard_ that. He hadn't thought much of Tom Riddle at all since he'd been arrested, and he had thought that the leader of their old gang was going away for life. He swallowed thickly, suddenly wishing that he'd never run into Bella and Dolph again at all. Maybe it would have been better for him to just leave the country.

"Don't go rushing into any decisions," Bellatrix cautioned. "Just hear us out first. I think that you'll find we can be very persuasive."


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad you are enjoying the drama that Rodolphus and Bellatrix are bringing, and can I just say, I am loving all the creative ways you guys are wishing they would go away, haha! I got a real laugh out of that. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter nine and be on the lookout for chapter ten soon!

* * *

If there was one thing Hermione hated, it was her friends invading her study time with meaningless non-questions. "So, _Rabastan_ ," Harry said, perhaps hoping to sound completely nonchalant, but failing miserably, leaning with his back against a stack of books.

Hermione looked up from the stack of books that she was reshelving in the library, wondering just how Harry had tracked her down in the _historical_ library stacks. It was as if he were some kind of bloodhound or something. "So, did you _have_ a reason to bother me here or are you just going to say the name of my neighbor without _any_ explanation at all?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

"I guess he just...well he wasn't what I was expecting at all," Harry said eventually, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. "Don't really understand what Ginny was on about. I wouldn't have guessed you would be...you know...interested in that type of guy."

She snorted in amusement. "No, I don't suppose you would understand," she agreed, knowing that her guy friends always seemed unable to tell when another man was attractive. "He's surprisingly sweet," she said, thinking of the helpless way Rabastan moved through the world. She certainly wouldn't be telling Harry about the way that he held her and kissed her.

Harry made a noise of surprise at hearing that. " _Sweet_ isn't the word that I would use to describe him," he said giving her a significant look. "He was quite _forceful_ when he introduced himself to Ron and me. Ron's still complaining that his hand aches after the handshake."

Hermione couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes at hearing _that_. "Well, perhaps Ron shouldn't have come in acting all macho, demanding to know who I'm on a date with - _which it wasn't_ \- as if he is entitled to that information in anyway," Hermione countered, trying to let Harry know just how annoyed she was with that line of questioning.

"Of course you're right," Harry conceded quickly. The messy-haired man did _not_ want to get entangled in the middle of Ron and Hermione's will-they-won't-they relationship again, having spent more than his share of time having to play peacekeeper between the two. He'd been relieved when Hermione _finally_ confided that she just wasn't interested in Ron like that anymore, and he'd hoped that Ron had finally moved on as well. But...he couldn't hold his tongue about Rabastan. "He's just...well, not your type, I guess. All tattoos and leather jackets."

"Oh?" Hermione questioned, crossing her now empty arms over her chest, curious about who Harry thought her type was. "And just who is my type?"

"I dunno...someone more like Remus," he explained helplessly.

"Harry, you want me to go after Remus?" she asked, laughing at how absurd it sounded. She _might_ have had a crush on Harry's godfather's friend when she was younger, but she certainly couldn't imagine getting together with him now that he had a wife and young son.

"No, of course not, I just mean...someone more like Remus," he tried to explain, though he was not doing a very good job. "I just mean, you both like books, and he's quiet and likes an afternoon in, just like you."

"How do you know that Rabastan _doesn't_ like an afternoon in with me?" she asked, wanting to push Harry's buttons a bit. "Maybe we spent all weekend last cuddled up on the couch _making out_." Hermione desperately tried to keep a straight face, but seeing Harry's scandalized face made her dissolve into a fit of giggles.

When she finally got control of herself, she gave Harry a grin and a squeeze to his shoulder. "See, this is why it's better to keep your nose _out_ of my love life, Harry. Rabastan and I aren't _together_ ," she added, though she was unable to not blush when she remembered the passionate kiss they'd shared, just days before. "But, if we were, I'd want you to just respect my choice."

"You might not be dating, but I can tell that you are interested in him more than just as your neighbor, Hermione," Harry said sagely, his green eyes penetrating her guilty gaze. "And I just want to make sure that you are being safe."

"You know me Harry - cautious Hermione Granger," she said with a shrug of her shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over.

"I know, but...well, I looked up his record," Harry said, giving her a significant look. "I think that you deserve to know what you are getting into." He dug around in his backpack, shuffling papers until he found what he was looking for. He held out the papers, waiting for her to take them.

Hermione stared at the papers, torn over what she should do. "Harry, Rabastan already told me what he did," she said, nibbling at her lower lip. "He recognized that what he did was wrong and he seems to be genuinely remorseful about it. I want to give him a chance," she explained.

"Well, if he already told you what happened, then there should be no surprises in here," Harry said, perceptively. "I think you owe it to yourself to at least know what kind of man you are dealing with."

Although she wanted to trust Rabastan's version of events, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd been completely truthful. And perhaps Harry was right that it was best to go into whatever their relationship was going to be with eyes wide open. She wouldn't want to be shocked with some hidden truth later on down the road. Sighing, she took the papers from him, before putting them into her own bag. "Okay, Harry, but if I decide to date Rabastan - I mean, if we should ever get to that kind of a relationship - I'd hope that you would respect my decision. After all, I am a smart girl who can take care of herself."

Harry smiled, looking relieved that she'd taken what he'd given her. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Of course, Hermione," Harry said. "Now, how about some lunch?"

* * *

It didn't even take a week for Rabastan to seek her out again after he'd had to chase her out of his flat when he'd had unexpected guests show up. He'd been working out in the garden, his shirt getting sweaty and greasy from his motorcycle, when he'd caught her peeping out at him from her kitchen window.

He'd wiped his dirty hands on the bandana hanging out of the pocket of his jeans before crossing into her section of the garden, calling out to her to come out. "I've seen you watching me Miss Granger," he teased, his voice carried in through the open window. "Aren't you going to come out and speak to me or do you insist on being a naughty girl and hiding away?"

Hermione's cheeks burned furiously at the way that he'd called her a naughty girl, but she'd crept outside all the same, forcing herself not to feel the least bit guilty about looking out her window. Biting her lip, she decided to tease him back. "What was I supposed to do, not look? I had such a good view," she answered.

Rabastan grinned back up at her, his light green eyes drinking in her weekend attire. "I was wondering if I could convince you to go on a date with me, since our last one ended so poorly."

"Oh, was that a date?" Hermione questioned, knowing that it had _not_ explicitly been called a date, though she'd desperately hoped that it was one. "I thought you were just tricking me into making your dinner for you, only to leave myself to starve."

He did frown at that, perhaps still feeling badly about the way that he'd asked her to leave. "Well, then you _must_ come out to dinner with me tonight," he answered, eagerly. "That way, you will know that this time it's _definitely_ a date, and I can make up for my bad manners."

Hermione looked at his messy clothes before her eyes dropped down to her sweatpants and slouchy t shirt. "You mean like, right now?" she asked, suddenly feeling very self conscious. She saw his eager grin, and bit her lower lip, wondering if he was joking. "But I'm not dressed to go out, and no offense, you look like you could use a shower yourself."

Rabastan looked down at the rag that he still held in his hands, seeing that he left a lot to be desired. "What if we met out front in an hour?" he proposed.

She thought through to all the things that she would need to do to get ready. Of course, she'd already showered earlier in the day, but she'd have to fret over what to wear, perfect whatever makeup she talked herself into wearing, and, of course, sort out her hair, which was unlikely to cooperate after spending the whole day up in a messy top knot. Still, she wanted to go out with Rabastan, so she would make it work. "Sure, that should work for me," she agreed.

"Great," he grinned back at her, before turning to return to his own garden. "It's a date," he added, over his shoulder, making Hermione's heart flip-flop in excitement.

As soon as he was out of sight, she rushed back inside to get ready. As usual, most of her time was spent in front of the mirror, trying on numerous tops to match her favorite pair of jeans that made her arse look great, only to get frustrated at the pile of rejects on her floor. Eventually, she found the perfect plaid button up in red that she figured was equal parts flattering and casual. She didn't expect Rabastan to take her anywhere too fancy.

Before she knew it, she was walking out her front door, finding Rabastan leaning against the steps waiting for her. He'd not dressed up too much either, but he looked handsome in a rugged sort of way in his jeans and black shirt.

"So, just where are we headed to Mr. Lestrange?" she asked, using his full name much like he'd done to her before.

Rabastan wrapped his arm around her shoulders as soon as she stood next to her down the block. "Just a little place I found not that long ago," he answered with a grin.

Hermione felt her stomach flip flop at the feeling of being safely tucked underneath his arm. She loved feeling the heat of his skin seep into her body, and being surrounded by his new leather and spice scent. She wondered briefly what it would be like to slip into his worn motorcycle jacket, traitorously. Would some possessive part of him like that?

He deftly guided them several blocks away from their flats where the residential area melted away into a tiny section of shops and restaurants that Hermione was vaguely familiar with. When they got to the pub on the corner, he held the door open and led them to an open table.

"This place has the best Thai food I've found so far," he said with a conspiratorial grin. "Though, since you only ever eat takeaways, maybe you know some place better."

Hermione laughed at that, but shook her head. "Guess I will just have to see how this place stacks up to my usual," she countered, laughing at the cheeky grin on his face.

They ordered pints and dishes to share between the two of them. Over all, Hermione was very impressed with the location. It was cozy and warm, with small tables that meant their knees would touch underneath the table. The food _was_ delicious, much better than Hermione's normal Thai, and she resolved to grab a paper menu on the way out for future dinners.

Rabastan greedily asked her plans for the summer, and was relieved to hear that she didn't plan on returning somewhere for the holiday. He listened to her decision to take a job at the library, which would give her a chance to study for law entrance exams, and give her a little extra money. She explained to him how her parents had moved to Australia several years before, and how they just didn't see each other very often any more.

In turn, Hermione was glad to hear that Rabastan was settling in well at his job. The pub that he worked at was exceedingly pleased with how he'd done as their door man, and had even begun training him to work behind the bar. "You'll have to come visit me while I'm working some time," he asked, reaching across the table to grab her hand affectionately. "I'll give you a discount," he added with a wink.

When their dinner was done, Hermione had drank two and a half IPAs - her third had to be finished by Rabastan - and they reluctantly had to make the walk back to their flat, knowing that the pub was going to be closing up for the night. Neither one of them really wanted the evening to be over, so they took their time walking back in the light drizzle that had started once the sun had gone down.

Finally back at the flat, Rabastan followed her up her stairs, standing with her at the door. Hermione could feel her heart thumping against her rib cage when he looked at her with those decidedly _unchaste_ green eyes. Hoping that she wasn't about to make a terrible mistake, she looked up at him through sooty lashes. "Umm..come in for a nightcap?" she asked, playing with the keys in her hands, though, if things went her way, she didn't plan on offering him any beverage.

Rabastan rewarded her with that crooked smile. "I thought you'd never ask, babe," he agreed, following her inside her little flat.

Stopping to shove off their shoes at the door, Hermione pressed her fingers under the sides of his leather jacket. "Let me hang this up for you?" she asked, pulling it off of his body, before leaving it on the hook by the door.

The pair retired to her living room, where she fumbled with the remote to turn the telly on in some spurious move to distract them from what they really wanted to do, while Rabastan settled in on her couch. When she returned, he grabbed her hand and pulled her between his legs, until she was settled across his lap.

"Rabastan!" Hermione giggled, unable to find her balance unless she pressed her hands against his shoulders. He cut off any more protests by pressing his lips against hers, moving against her slowly but surely. She melted against him with a tiny moan, feeling his hands delve into her hair, positioning her head just how he wanted her.

Opening her lips to him, Hermione sighed when he took the kiss deeper, sucking her lower lip between his, his tongue tracing against the plump flesh. Cautiously, she allowed herself to meet his tongue, rubbing against him a sensual dance, a shiver of pleasure racing up her spine when they moved together.

Pulling away from her lips, Rabastan kissed down her jaw to the skin just below her ear, while his fingers worked on the buttons at the front of her flannel, revealing the milky skin of her breasts to him. Not to be outdone, Hermione's fingers found the edge of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head.

She groaned, seeing his lightly tanned and well muscled chest, not for the first time, but the first time close enough to reach out and touch him. Her finger tips traced along the tattoos on his right arm, only to seek out the single tattoo on his chest. The rest of his abdomen was bare, save a light covering of dark hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. She delighted in seeing his muscles twitch at her delicate touches.

Rabastan pressed her back against the couch, his mouth leaving hot, open mouthed kisses down the side of her neck, stopping here and there to suck lustily against the skin, sure to leave a love bite her and there. He groaned when his lips reached the tops of her breasts, pressing reverent kisses to the soft skin.

He brought his hands up her still clothed sides to cup her breasts through the black cotton fabric, and Hermione could feel her nipples pebble beneath his touch. Her mind was fuzzy and focused at the same time, as if her entire being was focused on his tattooed fingers pulling the cups of her bra down so that his lips could finally meet the hardened tip, sucking against her, sending shivers racing up and down her spine to her center.

With his body cradled between her open hips, she could feel how hard he was pressed against her tightly, telegraphing his need and desire for her. Her insides clenched in desire and heat and she was positive that no one had ever made her feel that way. But, no matter how much he clearly wanted to take things further, he didn't press her further, seemingly content to lick and kiss all over her chest. His scruffy face rubbing against her sensitive skin had her moaning, arching against him.

Just when she thought she could go on no longer, he was kissing back up to her lips, capturing her in one, final, blistering kiss. She let his fingers play with his dark hair, twirling her fingers in the half curls that she found.

Rabastan broke away, grinning at her with well kissed lips. "God, I could spend a day just kissing you, babe," he told her honestly.

Hermione nodded helplessly, feeling the exact same way. He'd spent all the time exploring her body, but she'd barely gotten to appreciate him. Still, she sat up, righting her clothing, grateful that he hadn't pushed things too far too fast, despite that his body clearly wanted him too. "Oh, is that the time?" she asked, a blush rising to her cheeks when she finally saw the clock on the wall. Somehow, they'd spent nearly two hours together on her little couch.

"Early morning tomorrow?" he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye once he'd pulled his shirt back over his head.

She nodded helplessly, remembering that she did have her earliest class the next day. Sighing, upset that the date was over, Hermione stood and walked him to the door. "I did have a really great time, Rabastan," she told him with a shy grin. "I'd like to go out again sometime."

Rabastan pulled her in for one last lingering kiss, before nodding. "Me too, babe. I'm sure we can arrange something real soon," he answered, making no secret of the way his green eyes sweeped up and down her disheveled body, feeling obvious pride that he'd made her that way.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! This chapter begins with a tiny little jump forward, but if you liked last chapter, I think that you'll like this one too! There are only a few chapters of this left - there are fifteen chapters all together, so you know some drama is just around the corner. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter ten and be on the lookout for chapter eleven soon!

* * *

The spring term was speeding by more quickly than Hermione had ever experienced, and for once it wasn't because she was up to her neck. Instead, she spent her days anticipating the next time that she'd see Rabastan.

It felt like her world had been completely shaken up ever since her downstairs neighbor had moved in, but Hermione found that she didn't mind the change in equilibrium. Instead, she enjoyed clinging to Rabastan as they experienced new things together.

Without really trying, they'd ended up spending every available moment with one another, when she wasn't at school and when he wasn't working. Just the week before, he'd come over to her flat to make cookies with her again, after he'd revealed that they were the best cookies he'd ever had in his life.

Smiling to herself, she thought about how much her feelings had changed since her first meeting with him. At the time, when he'd so callously invited her in for a _fuck_ , she'd wanted nothing more than to dump the plate of cookies on his head and never see him again. It had taken time, but the more that she got to know him, the more she was positive that she was falling for him _hard_.

This time, the cookie making process was not disturbed by her nerves, but rather by Rabastan wrapping his arms around her waist to press kisses to her exposed neck, pressing her back against the counter to tease her, kissing her so fiercely that she nearly forgot what it was that she was working on.

They'd gone on several dates together, some more fancy than others, but Hermione mostly liked when they would just wander around outside, his arm slung around her waist, holding her against him. She was certain that she'd never get tired of how physically affectionate Rabastan was with her.

With how much their relationship was progressing, Hermione had even invited him to hang out with her friends one time. They'd all met up at a tiki club not far from campus called the Kitty Kat Club which had a five piece band and served strong, sugary cocktails. Ron had brought his girlfriend, Lavender, but still looked increasingly annoyed every time that Rabastan would whisper something into her ear. Ginny hadn't been able to keep the smirk off of her face. Hermione knew that the redhead was just feeling very pleased with herself for _setting up_ Hermione and Rabastan.

It had gone so much better than Hermione would have ever thought, and by the end of the night, drunk on Hemingway daiquiris and fogcutters, even Harry was joking around with Rabastan. He'd kissed up and down her neck, leaving her a keening mess, until Ron had glared at them and demanded that they get a room. The pair had stumbled back to Hermione's flat together and collapsed into Hermione's bed, a tangle of greedy fingers and lips. _That_ night, their relationship had reached a new milestone, with Rabastan kissing her between her legs until she didn't even know her own name any more.

Blushing, Hermione pulled herself out from _that_ particular memory, knowing that she was probably lit up brighter than Rudolph's nose.

Standing up from her bed, Hermione knew that she couldn't dally much longer if she wanted to get ready for her date in time for Rabastan to pick her up. He'd been very secretive to what it was going to be, except that she should wear jeans. She quickly threw on a pair, before selected a thin sweater to celebrate the warming temperatures. She left her hair down, knowing that Rabastan enjoyed running his fingers through it, before putting on a bit of mascara.

She'd just finished getting ready when she heard Rabastan's knocking at the front door. Eager, she hustled to open the front door, bidding Crookshanks a good afternoon to himself, having gotten the older cat a new catnip toy for the occasion.

As soon as she exited her flat, Rabastan pulled her in for a fierce kiss, pressing her back against her door, his hands coming to cup her jeans clad arse. Pulling away, Hermione couldn't suppress her giggles. "Did you just tell me to wear jeans because you wanted to feel me up?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Rabastan shook his head, a cheeky grin on his face. "Not quite, though it is a nice perk," he added.

"Alright, well, what do you have planned?" she asked. "I have to admit, I am dying of curiosity."

He only grinned wider, before stepping aside, so that she could see his motorcycle waiting on the street in front of their building, shining in the sunlight. Immediately, Hermione began to backtrack. "Oh, I don't know Rabastan," she said, fretting over the idea of getting on the back of little bike that offered no protection to her body should they cross.

"It's okay, I promise that you will be completely safe on it," he said, taking her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "You will like it, if you give it a chance," he added.

Hermione felt skeptical to his promise that she would like it. She didn't think that she would enjoy it for a minute, and even though he promised she would be perfectly safe, on an intellectual level, Hermione knew that that was impossible, even if he didn't mean to. But, she also trusted Rabastan. It was out of her comfort zone, of course, but she wanted to try something new.

"Alright, but just this once," she insisted, before walking down the front stairs with him, his arm around her waist.

Rabastan looked serious once they arrived at the side of the motorcycle. He helped her up onto it, seeing as she was a bit short to try and get on herself, before showing her where to keep her legs so that she didn't get burned. Then, he got on it himself. Reaching for her hands, he pulled them until they were wrapped tightly around his waist, her fingers inside the soft leather of his jacket.

When he first revved the engine, Hermione was certain that her heart was going to leap out of her throat. Instead, she shoved her face into Rabastan's back, closing her eyes and holding on for dear life while he slowly starting driving them forward.

She could feel all of his movements, gently guiding the motorcycle through turns, and eventually, she grew comfortable enough to open her eyes. Looking around, Hermione felt as if she was seeing a whole new side of London as they sped through the streets. As the world was slowly waking up to the springtime, it was as if everything had come to life in color.

He drove her down along the Thames, and Hermione was excited to see the water taxis bringing tourists and annoyed citizens down the river. Eventually, she found herself enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair, Rabastan's warmth under her fingertips, and the subtle vibration of the engine between her thighs.

She wasn't sure how long their joyride lasted, but eventually, he was finding a space to park. Helping her off, he didn't laugh at her slightly wobbly legs, and instead held her hand before taking her to a quaint French bakery. Rabastan looked supremely out of place in the bright yellow of the shop, but she was excited that he'd listened to her moaning about how much she'd missed Paris just the week before.

They shared a quiche lorraine together, sitting in the window and watching all of the people walk by. Hermione asked him all about the things he'd had to do to the motorcycle to get it running again, and though she didn't understand half of the complex mechanical systems that he described to her, she loved seeing the look on his face when he described something he obviously cared a lot about.

Hermione was suddenly struck by how much she'd grown to care for the other man in just a short amount of time. Honestly, she was a bit scared by the depth of her feelings, especially considering that there was still so much about him that he didn't know. They rarely ever talked about his brother, despite Hermione's curiosity. She tried to remain patient, though, not wanting to push him into a subject he wasn't ready to face yet.

After they finished their food, they walked around a bit. Hermione was unfamiliar with that part of town, but she easily found a used bookshop and begged Rabastan to let her enter it. He waited patiently while she got her fill of wandering through the shelves, her fingers trailing along the spines of the old books.

Before long, though, they agreed that it was time for them to return home. "You better hurry," Hermione teased, taking in the sky above them. "It looks like it could start raining at any moment."

Later, Rabastan would blame her warning as the reason that they got soaked. They had barely been riding for five minutes when the clouds opened up above them. It was not a typical London dreary rain, instead a full downpour that had Hermione squealing as they became fully drenched.

Rabastan finally guided his bike back towards the little shed that he kept it in. Hermione grabbed his hand eagerly, laughing as they ran towards the flat, slipping into her backdoor.

"Oh god, I'm soaked," she said, laughing, with flushed cheeks as they stood dripping in the kitchen together. Rabastan did not return her laugh, but instead gave her a heated look.

Hermione wasn't entirely sure who moved first, but in the next instance, they were kissing fiercely, their lips sliding against one another in a rhythm they had long since perfected. He wound his fingers through her hair, pulling her just how he wanted her, while the other hand held her body closer to his.

Her fingers cautiously slunk underneath the soaking wet fabric of his tshirt, which was now fairly clinging to his well muscled chest. Wishing that she didn't need to break the kiss, she pulled the shirt up over his head and dropped it to the floor, uncaring of the wet thunk it made against the wood, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

Rabastan seemed to understand her message then, and picked her up as though it was effortless. Hermione clung to his body as he clumsily walked them back towards her bedroom, stumbling now and again as he fought to kick off his boots, leaving them where they fell.

Only when they finally breached the threshold of her room - a journey that seemed to take ten times longer than it usually did - did Rabastan set her down so that her feet were on the floor. Hermione was trembling, but she was unsure if it was from nerves or from the chill of the rain. She let him pull her sweater over her head, divesting her as she'd done to him, before reaching behind herself to lose the band of her bra, while his long fingers worked the snap and zipper of her jeans. Hermione giggled while she struggled to get free from the wet denim, Rabastan having the same issues that she was.

Finally free, they tumbled into her bed, with only their undergarments to separate them. Rabastan pulled up her rumpled covers, trying to give them a bit of warmth, while their bodies were pressed together. She wasn't sure who was colder, but she was disappointed when she trailed her toes up his calves, only to find them feeling icier than her feet did.

Rolling her onto her back, Rabastan loomed over her, before returning to kiss her, his hand brought up to cup her breast and roll his fingers against the stiff flesh of her nipple. Hermione moaned into his mouth, feeling dizzy with desire, her heart beating against her ribcage as she thought about what she wanted. Feeling that insistent pulse between her legs, she pushed her knickers down.

Rabastan broke the kiss in surprise when he felt her trying to repeat the action with his own boxer briefs. "Hermione?" he asked, his voice sounding tortured, but unsure.

They had never gone this far in their relationship, mostly due to Hermione's nervousness over Rabastan's intentions. She still worried that he would get bored of her once she'd given in to him, but their date that day had proven a different side of him. She smiled up at him breathlessly, before nodding furious. "Please? I want to," she practically begged him.

He groaned, capturing her lips once more, before moving to settle himself between her legs, caught off guard by the feeling of her heat against his skin. Rocking against her several times, enjoying the way that he could slip against her, he finally positioned himself against her opening, before pushing forward, entering her fully.

Fully seated inside of her, Rabastan pressed his face into the crook of her neck, trying to keep his head for the moment. The breathed together as one, before Hermione grew impatient and began rocking back against him. Wrapping a leg around his waist, Rabastan snapped back into action, thrusting into her, staring at her face in wonder.

Hermione wasn't sure how much time had passed, only that she was growing closer and closer to orgasm, her fingers gripping at his back and shoulders, desperate for more. He seemed to be close, too, as he grew more erratic with his thrusts, his pubic bone pressed against her making her see stars. Finally, when she snapped, she called out his name with a breathy moan, Rabastan following her only a hairsbreadth later.

Feeling a bit dazed, Hermione sighed when Rabastan's comforting weight was removed from her body, before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his side. Sleepy after the big afternoon that they had with one another, Hermione felt her eyes dip closed for a tiny cat nap.

When she woke sometime later, Rabastan was laid on his side, staring at her with those lovesick green eyes, his fingers playing with her bottom lip. She looked at him, feeling as though her heart might just burst from the feeling.

Suddenly feeling quite vulnerable, Hermione against started to worry that Rabastan would tire of her now that he'd gotten what he'd been initially after. Her eyes guiltily darted towards her desk where his arrest report lie, as of yet unread, from when Harry had given it to her. She wanted to trust that the man he told her he was trying to become was the man that he was. But, he was still so closed off.

Bringing up her hand, she interlaced their fingers together. She looked at Rabastan through her eyelashes and hoped that he wouldn't see the tears lurking in her eyes. "When are we going to talk about your brother?" she asked, tentatively, _knowing_ that it was a conversation they were going to have to have eventually.

Rabastan bristled at the line of questioning. "Why would you ask about him?" he asked, sounding irritated. "If I had it my way I'd never see him again. I wish we hadn't even run into them that day at the grocery story."

"I just-" Hermione cut herself off, licking her lower lip, trying to put into words everything that she was feeling. "He obviously is still a part of your life, and well, he's a big part of your life."

His eyes dropped from her eyes, unwilling or unable to maintain the eye contact. "I just mean, well...you and your brother have much more in common than you and I do." It was true that neither one of them were very alike when it came to where they were in their lives. Hermione never would have imagined dating someone like Rabastan before he met him, but she'd found that she loved his presence in her life, really far more than she was expecting.

Rabastan snorted in frustration. "Sure, but I certainly don't want my brother to be my girlfriend," he rolled his eyes. Suddenly, he seemed to realize what it was that he'd said, and he pulled her closer to him, pressing her head into his chest. "I just...Dolph is my past. And I'd prefer that he stay there," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I hope this isn't too presumptuous of me to say, but well, I kind of hope that you are what's in store for my future."

Hermione could feel her cheeks light up at his statement, but was unable to keep a smile from her lips. Pressing forward, she let her lips linger against his now warm chest, before giving his hand a tight squeeze. "I just...I don't want to get tossed aside when you get sick of me," she said, softly. "If you should decide that you want your old life back, and we suddenly find ourselves incompatible."

Rabastan laughed, a comforting rumble against her ear. "Babe, I don't think that I could get sick of you if I tried," he told her, honestly, making Hermione's heart beat even harder.

She hoped that was the truth. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand it if he grew bored of her now that they'd been together. Trying to let go of her fears, she told herself that this was only a step in the right direction.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I am so glad that you liked the last chapter - it was so fun to write something so wholesome and sweet. Quick shout out to weestarmeggie for the term 'dicked down' that I used in this chapter. Haha, I don't know why but that really makes me giggle. Also, I posted the first chapter of a Theo x Daphne story last week - it's my first time writing non-Hermione centric fic, so I would be curious to hear what you think. So, check that out if you are interested! You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.

Please let me know what you thought of chapter eleven and be on the lookout for chapter twelve soon!

* * *

Ginny stared at Hermione from her place across the table, where she was sitting next to Luna, with a wild smirk on her face. Taking a sip of her pint, Ginny could no longer hold in her curiosity. "Soo..." she started, glancing up at Hermione.

"So?" Hermione answered, trying to hide her smile in her cocktail. Ever since things had gotten more serious with Rabastan, she'd been feeling happier, freer. Though he hadn't said it in as many words, Hermione knew that Rabastan had been trying to tell her that he cared for her. A lot.

"You haven't been able to stop grinning all night, Granger! Spill!" the spunky redhead commanded. "Is it Rabastan? You guys have been going out for a while now."

"Hmm, I suppose we have," Hermione said suddenly, counting up the weeks in her head. "Two and a half months?" she questioned aloud, before confirming in her head. It wasn't actually that much time in reality, but since they spent as many days as they could together, it ended up feeling far more significant than it probably was.

"Oh, is that why Hermione is always so busy these days?" Luna asked, in her typically dreamy voice. "I thought she was busy working on her term paper."

Hermione colored a bit in embarrassment, knowing that she had missed _several_ girls nights along the way. She didn't mean to abandon her friends, but this thing with Rabastan was still so new and exciting it was hard to pull away from him.

Before she could apologize, Ginny was swatting Luna on the arm. "Don't make her feel guilty!" Ginny scolded. "If Hermione is too busy getting dicked down by her hot neighbor, I won't be upset with her for missing girls' nights out."

"Ginny!" Hermione cried out in embarrassment, wanting to deny that she and Rabastan had been very much engaged, but knowing that she could not. They'd spent the whole weekend in her bed after having sex for the first time, leaving briefly for food, only to have Rabastan take her right against the kitchen counter.

"Don't lie, Hermione," Ginny said with a mischievous grin on her lightly freckled face. "Your blush betrays you. Now come on, tell us the details! What was it like?" she demanded. "I practically set the pair of you up, the least that you can do is tell me details. Spice up my boring life."

"Wow, didn't think you'd ever call your sex life boring," Luna said, sounded utterly perplexed. "Does Blaise know?" she wondered aloud.

Ginny glared at her friend, knowing that she was just being overly dramatic. She and Blaise had a _very_ healthy sex life, and she was more than happy to share the details. "Don't change the subject, Lovegood," Ginny whined.

With both of the girls' eager attention on her, Hermione could only feel her blush intensify. "I - it's very nice," she said with finality, unwilling to tell them of all that had transpired between the two of them.

Her terse description had even Luna smirking at her. "Just nice?" the blonde pressed, leaning forward in her seat.

"That's - that's all you'll get out of me, I'm afraid," Hermione said with a cheshire grin, wondering what Rabastan would make of her friend's interest in what he was like in bed. He'd probably be entirely too flattered by the idea, Hermione thought with a roll of her eyes.

Ginny let out a triumphant 'ha!' before leaning back in her chair. "At _least_ we got her to admit that they are even _having_ sex," she said with a grin. "I cannot _wait_ to tell Ron. I am fairly certain that his head will go all the way round - like in the Exorcist!"

"Oh, please don't tell Ron," Hermione said, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "I _don't_ think that either one of the boys would take kindly to hearing those kind of details about me, same as I don't want those kind of details about them." They were really far too close to one another, and it seemed a bit like knowing what your brothers got up to.

"Oh, fine," Ginny finally conceded with a put-on frown. "Party pooper."

Luna cocked her head to the side. "Can you at least tell us...does Rabastan have any hidden tattoos?" she asked. "I was so taken with the lovely snake on his arm."

Hermione thought about all the tattoos that Rabastan had on his body, and she was sure that he'd have had more had he not been in prison for so long. She could feel her blush creeping up the side of her neck, knowing that her physical reactions were giving away far more than she ever could tell them. "Can we _not_ talk about my boyfriend anymore?" she begged.

"Okay," Luna said, cheerfully. "We can talk about Harry's tattoos. He's got a delightful tattoo, right on his left buttock. It's a whimsical little griffin."

"What?" Hermione asked, torn between wanting to know _what the hell_ Harry had been thinking, and wanting to _never_ think about Harry's arse ever again.

"It's true," Ginny confirmed with a smirk on her face. "It actually doesn't look that bad."

"Can we please never mention this ever again? I don't know how I am going to face him next time I see him," Hermione groaned into her hands. Finishing off her drinks, she motioned to the bartender for a refill, hoping that copious amounts of alcohol would erase that from her memory. "If we _must_ talk about Harry, why don't you just tell me what he's up to tonight, Luna."

Luna smiled when the waiter brought them a fresh round of drinks. "Oh, I think that he said he was going to try out a new bar himself. He and Sirius were going to meet for a pint or two, seeing as I am here and unavailable for the evening."

Finally feeling as if the conversation was headed in the right direction, Hermione allowed herself to relax, the blush slowly receding from her face.

* * *

Rabastan had done fairly well at avoiding Rodolphus and Bellatrix, spending most of his free time with Hermione. When he was with the brunette, it was as if nothing else in the world mattered to him. But, that was also a scary feeling when he remembered that was leverage they could use against him.

So far, he had a pretty good feeling that they had no idea who Hermione really was or where she lived. He'd never called her by her name in front of them, instead just sticking to babe. And, he was fairly certain they'd never guess that she just lived one floor above him, thinking that it was too close to consider.

That didn't mean that he'd been completely able to avoid them. They were always slinking back into his life at the least opportune time, reminding him that they were family, that he owed him, and that they needed him for this job.

He never asked for the details, but over time, the shape of the job had started to come out. They had gotten a tip about a stash house that was actually run by a police informant in the City, and they wanted to go rob it. It was meant to be a gift for the leader of the Death Eaters, the gang that they rode with, Tom, who was due to be out of prison himself soon. And, since they had all gotten locked up on the word of an informant, that meant this job was personal to them.

No matter how many times that he tried to talk them out of fucking with the police, they had been unwilling to budge. Instead of thinking rationally, their fucked up heads were filled with thoughts of blow and cash and getting Tom's favor back once again. At a different time of his life, that might have appealed to him too, but now all he wanted were nights cuddled on Hermione's couch, watching telly with her. Or drinks out at the pub, Hermione's head thrown back in laughter. Or his face pressed into Hermione's neck, leaving hickeys to show that she was his, while her fingers worked the button on his jeans.

Groaning, Rabastan tried to clear his head from _those_ kind of thoughts while he was working, wiping a damp cloth back and forth across the bar.

The door opened and Rabastan looked up, furious to see none other than Bellatrix and Rodolphus walking in as if they owned the place. He wished that he could kick them out, but unfortunately, he worked in the seedy type of bar that his brother and sister-in-law fit right into. Bellatrix smiled when she locked eyes with him, dark eyes sparkling with mischief. They crossed the floor, before slipping into the seats at the bar right in front of him.

"What do you want?" he bit out gruffly, wanting to get them in and out as quickly as possible. The less time that he spent with them, the better.

"Oh, well, since you asked so nicely," Bellatrix sneered back at him sarcastically. "I'll have a whiskey neat, Rabby. Make it a double."

Rabastan didn't enjoy being ordered around, least of all by her, but he did as she said, pouring an additional portion for himself and Rodolphus. God knew that he would need the alcohol to deal with her. He downed the whiskey in two gulps before pouring himself another portion.

"You know you can't keep avoiding us forever, Rab," Rodolphus said, his voice dropping in volume. If he didn't know his brother better, Rabastan would almost think that he was concerned about him. But, it was Rodolphus he was talking to, so he knew that this was just another manipulation tactic. "One of these days, that little bitch you are dating is going to leave you to go off to do her fucking gap year or something, and you're gonna fall on hard times, and who will you have left to go to? We're your family Rab. You know that you can _only_ count on us."

He shook his head, not wanting to believe Rodolphus's poison words. "No, that wouldn't happen," he said, his eyebrows furrowed together in concern. "She isn't - she isn't like that." He hoped that if he said it with enough conviction that it might come true, but deep down he had always been a little bit worried that Hermione was going to wake up one of these days and realize that she was too good for him. That she should be with someone like that prick he'd punched when he'd found her out in central London. She _deserved_ more than a bartender felon.

Sometimes, it almost felt silly to think that she was with him at all. He'd nearly killed a woman, once, and yes, he'd done his time, but Hermione was just on a completely separate wavelength from him. It didn't stop him from begging for whatever scraps she would send his way, though.

"She is," Bellatrix responded, with a roll of her eyes. "Do you think that she _understands_ you? Not the way that we do Rabby. One day, she'll get sick of her little _pet_ project," she taunted.

Rabastan swallowed thickly, hoping that they weren't able to tell how close to the bone this was catching him. "Listen, if you are just here to lecture me about my personal relationships, I would prefer if you let me make my own fuckups," he responded, wanting to get them out of there as soon as possible.

"You know that's not the only reason we're here," Bellatrix said, smiling into her glass. "We need to talk details about Tom's little coming home party. I want to make sure we aren't getting him the same present."

He frowned at her. "I've told you time and time again that I'm not going to be coming to the party, let alone bringing a present," he growled, trying to shoo Bellatrix away. "So why don't you take your party planning committee elsewhere?"

"You want to do this the hard way?" Rodolphus asked, rhetorically. "Okay, we will do this the hard way. But for the record, Rab, I didn't want it to go this way. You will either do as we say, like a good little boy, or else your little girlfriend is gonna get it."

"I would so love to have a little chat with her - girl to girl," Bellatrix said, running her tongue along her front teeth.

Rabastan stared at his brother with a blank face, though internally he was beginning to panic. "Don't believe me? I'm trying to tell you that _Hermione Granger_ , who lives in the flat above you - _very_ convenient, I must say, Rab - might get her pretty little face bashed in if you don't do as you're told. Now, are you going to do as you are told, or do I need to make the message clearer."

He knew that he shouldn't confirm any of the details that Rodolphus had gleaned, not wanting him to know how on the money he really was, but Rabastan was far too scared for Hermione's safety not to. Inside, he could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage, his pulse rushing in his ears, as he thought about what Rodolphus and Bellatrix would do to her. He crossed his arms over his chest, wishing that he wasn't currently in this situation.

"What's the plan then?" he asked, clenching his teeth so that he didn't just slip and tell Dolph what he really thought about him.

"I knew he'd come around to our way of thinking," Bellatrix cooed into her husband's ear, wrapping her arms around him. "We just needed the right sort of leverage."

Rodolphus was already gathering coasters and napkins off of the bar, creating a makeshift little map to describe the scene. "Alright, so the house is here, right on the corner," he pointed out to Rabastan. "It's got just two entrances - one in and one out, here and here."

Bellatrix watched in interest. "You'll be hanging around in the back, Rab. Barty is going to go in the front. He's been working with the guy, you see, trying to buy a package from him. Once he's inside, I'll rush the front, and Rodolphus will come in the back."

Running his hands through his hair, certain that this was a supremely terrible idea, Rabastan shrugged his shoulders. "What exactly do you need me to do?" he asked, overwhelmed by the need to put space between him and his brother, but remaining rooted at the spot, if only because it meant Hermione's safety.

"I thought you'd never ask," Bellatrix teased with a grin.

Rodolphus pointed between the coasters. "There is an alley that runs along the back of the property. You'll be in the car, waiting here. Wait three minutes after I go into the back," he said, giving Rabastan a pointed look. "Three minutes, and then all three of us will run out. You'll drive us to safety."

"And that's all I gotta do?" he asked, feeling skeptical. _Last time_ had seen deceptively simple, too, that was until Bellatrix went off the rails and Rodolphus stabbed someone. Then, it had all descended into chaos.

"That's all you gotta do," Rodolphus nodded. "And, we'll give you ten percent for your cut."

"Ten? Shouldn't I get twenty-five?" he questioned. If he was going to take part in an armed robbery, he was at least going to get his fair share of it in the end. "That's fair."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes at him. "No, it's not as simple as a four way cut. We'll give half to Tom, and then split the rest between us," she said firmly.

"Then I should be getting twelve and a half," Rabastan said, narrowing his eyes. "Listen - you and Rodolphus and Barty can give half of your shares away to Tom if you want to, but I'm not going to. I want twenty-five."

"Twelve and a half," Rodolphus countered offered.

"Twenty," Rabastan demanded, staring his brother down, wondering how high he could get him to go.

"Fifteen, Rabastan, and that's it," Rodolphus said, pounding his fist against the bar in anger. "That's more than generous."

Rabastan shook his head. "We're family, remember? Seventeen and a half," he countered, feeling a bit malicious, but wanting his fair cut.

"Fine, seventeen and a half," Rodolphus finally agreed. "Christ, you were never this much of a stickler before prison, Rabastan. What did they teach you math in there or something?"

"Very funny," he deadpanned, knowing that Rodolphus just wasn't used to him sticking up for himself. The old Rabastan would have been eager to go along, just for a bit of fun. "Now, where the fuck am I supposed to get a car?" he asked, feeling testy and on edge.

Bellatrix smirked. "Just get one off the street. Prison didn't make you forget how to hotwire a car, did it?" she teased. Bellatrix had always insisted that he couldn't do something, knowing that Rabastan was so eager to prove himself that he'd make it happen. Now, he knew it was just another way they manipulated him.

"Fine," he bit out, running his hand down his face, suddenly feeling very old. When he finally looked back up, he gave his brother a hard look. "But this is the last time, okay? I do this for you, and then next time you find someone else. You forget Hermione's name, is that understood?"

Rodolphus stood, and laughed at him, before drinking the rest of the whiskey in his glass. "I don't really think that you are in the position to make those kind of demands, Rabastan," he said. "But, we'll see. You stay on your best behavior, and we'll revisit this." His brother wrapped his arm around Bellatrix's shoulder, before turning to leave, and Rabastan was only too happy to see them go.

They left without paying.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! Of course, you knew that I had to bring some of the drama...I'm afraid we aren't quite out of the woods yet. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter twelve and be on the lookout for chapter thirteen soon!

* * *

Harry had wanted to try out a new bar that he'd walked by on the way home from classes, but he knew that the dingy interior was not a kind of place that Ron would go to. However, it seemed like it would be perfect for a pint with Sirius, who always seemed to enjoy a little hole-in-the-wall, even though he could get into practically any club with his good looks.

Sirius had readily agreed to meet with him, but in typical Sirius fashion, he'd not been able to show up on time. Harry had tried to disappear back into the corner of the bar, realizing that he was not the traditional patron of the establishment, and he didn't want to draw any more attention to himself than he needed to.

He'd ordered his ale from the one waitress that walked around the room, recognizing the bartender as Hermione's new _boyfriend_ Rabastan Lestrange. Harry would have never suggested this bar if he'd known it was the same one that Rabastan worked at. It wasn't as if he didn't like the man - the one time that they'd all hung out together had been much more fun than he'd anticipated - but he didn't want Rabastan to think that Harry was keeping tabs on him.

He also couldn't get the memory of Rabastan's arrest warrant out of his mind. Alice Longbottom's written complaint of what had happened seemed horribly matter-of-fact for a woman who'd witnessed her husband being stabbed in the stomach when she was being held at knifepoint herself.

Harry counted himself lucky when he realized that Rabastan was far too busy talking to a couple who were seated at the bar to have noticed him. He faced away from the dangerous looking trio, intent on just minding his own business.

As he played with the foam head on his pint and kept an eye on the door for Sirius, he had absolutely nothing to distract him from the conversation that was taking place only a few feet away from him. Knowing that it was _none_ of his business, Harry tried to keep his mind busy, recalling the weekend football matches in vain, only to be drawn into the terse discussion.

It did not take Harry long to figure out that what they were discussing was not in the least bit above board. He winced as the trio planned out a robbery that was meant to take place in the near future, the woman's gleeful cackling about how she was going to rough up the person who they were meant to be robbing. He felt sick to his stomach as he slowly learned what Rabastan's part in all this would be.

Harry was so enthralled that he didn't even notice Sirius walk up to the table.

"Kid, what's wrong with you?" Sirius asked with amusement. "You look like you've seen a ghost! Promise me it's not my mother come back to haunt me," he added with a laugh. The dark haired man slid into the seat adjacent to Harry before dropping a fiver on the table to signal the waitress.

Harry tried to give him a smile, but was unsuccessful. "Nothing, I just, remembered...something I have to tell 'Mione," he stumbled through the response, unsure of what he should do. He knew that he couldn't tell Sirius, not _now_ , because Rabastan was certain to hear them and Sirius was certain to do something stupid and ill advised. No, it was better to tell Hermione first. She would know what to do.

"Ah, and just how is the lovely Miss Granger these days?" Sirius asked cheerfully. His godfather and Hermione had always had an _interesting_ relationship. Sirius had always liked to push her buttons as a bleeding heart and Hermione had always been irked by his careless, bachelor lifestyle, especially when it rubbed off on Harry. As Hermione had grown older, it had occasionally dipped _uncomfortably_ close to flirtatious, in Harry's opinion.

Harry immediately glanced over his shoulder back towards Rabastan, praying that the other man had not heard Sirius's voice, Hermione's name carrying on the stale air in the bar. To his relief, Rabastan was still speaking quietly with the other two. "Oh, you know, same old 'Mione," he answered, before changing the topic as quickly as possible.

A night out with Sirius was always fun, but no matter how hard he tried, Harry could not relax for the whole night. Even when he talked about Luna - a topic he could _easily_ get carried away with - he'd been unable to stop the nervous churning in his gut.

When they finally settled their bills and left, Harry had half a mind to head straight to Hermione's and let him know what he'd heard. But, he remembered that she'd gone out with Ginny and Luna, so there was no way that she was going to be in the right frame of mind to accept what he was telling her. If she was even home at all.

Shaking his head, Harry made plans to go and speak with Hermione _first_ thing in the morning. Hell, he'd even set an alarm if he had to. Hermione had insisted that Rabastan was turning over a new leaf, but he owed it to her to show her that the man she was dating was not the man he claimed to be.

It would hurt her, yes, but finding out when Rabastan ended up arrested or dead would hurt her even more.

* * *

Hermione groaned when she was awoken by a persistent pounding on her front door. Sliding her feet into slippers, she threw her robe on while she walked out of the heaven that was her bed. She knew that it couldn't be Rabastan because they'd made plans to get pizza later that night, and he worked a closing shift, so he was likely in a worse state than she was.

She really shouldn't have had that third old fashioned, she thought sourly to herself.

Swinging the door wide open, she was surprised to see Harry standing there. "Harry, what are you doing here? It's eight o'clock on a saturday," she said suspiciously.

He grinned up at her, but his smile didn't quite meet his eyes. "Can I come in for a bit?" he asked, before pressing a paper bag into her hands. "I've brought breakfast - one of those blueberry muffins from the place by mine and Ron's that you love. I'll make coffee."

Stepping aside, Hermione let Harry walk past her, before turning to follow him into the kitchen, picking up Crookshanks on the way. "What, did you just remember that you have a term paper due or something?" she asked, wondering what had gotten into him that he'd come over like this out of the blue, bearing gifts no less.

Harry had busied himself with her coffeemaker, keeping himself facing away from her resolutely, which only made her feel more suspicious. "No, that's not it," he said sounding guilty, perhaps upset to realize that she associated him being overly nice to with with wanting homework help. "So, you know that Sirius and I went out last night?"

"Yeah, Luna mentioned it," Hermione answered, taking a tentative bite from her muffin, Crookshanks settled on her lap. "She also told me about your tattoo. I'll confess, that's something that I wish I never knew about you," she said with a groan, her propping her head up with one hand, wishing she'd been able to sleep in just a bit longer.

To her surprise, Harry's cheeks grew red in embarrassment. He slid into the chair across from her, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. "Yeah, I wish I could forget it myself," he said, running his hand through his messy hair. "My mistake for getting drunk with Ron and agreeing we needed something to remember Gryffindor house for the rest of our lives."

Hermione smiled at that, knowing how convincing Ron could be when he put his mind to something. Silence seemed to stretch between the two friends while Hermione waited for Harry to share whatever was on his mind. "You were mentioning Sirius?" she finally prodded, dreaming of crawling back into her bed.

"Well, I didn't know it at the time, but we actually ended up at the bar Rabastan works at," Harry finally said, trying to sound casual, but doing a terrible job of it.

Immediately, Hermione's mind sprang into action, working overtime trying to figure out what kind of terrible thing could have happened. God, she hoped that Sirius hadn't done anything stupid, knowing he'd always had a bit of a soft spot for her. "Harry, what did you do?" she demanded, her voice already going a bit shrill.

" _I_ didn't do anything," he said, his eyebrows furrowed. "Nothing- look, nothing _happened_. It's about what I heard," he tried to explain. "Rabastan didn't know I was there, but he was with this couple and well...they were discussing a robbery. A robbery they are planning to commit."

Hermione shook her head resolutely. "No, that's impossible," she said, a frown on her face when she quickly pieced it together. There was no doubt in her mind that the couple was Rodolphus and Bellatrix. "You must have just been mishearing something. Maybe it was something that happened in the past," she desperately tried to explain it.

Harry gave her a sad look, and shook his head. "Hermione, I know what I heard," he insisted. "They were discussing robbing a house. Rabastan is going to be the getaway driver. They were haggling back and forth about what his cut of the money would be."

She felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her head, a shock to the system that snapped her out of the sunny daze she'd been in the last two months that she'd been with Rabastan. Everything had been so perfect, and she believed him when he said that that life was in his past. She believed him when he said that he never wanted anything to do with his brother ever again.

But, she also believed Harry, her oldest friend. Her friend who had no reason to lie about something like this.

"He wouldn't," Hermione stuttered, feeling tears form in her eyes, embarrassed to be crying over a boy in front of Harry. Could he understand what she was feeling at all? "He promised me - he's trying to turn over a new leaf. Make up for lost time," she insisted, desperately, trying to convince Harry had he _must_ have been wrong, because the alternative hurt her too much.

"Hermione, I'm sorry," he whispered, standing up from the chair so he could wrap her up in a tight hug. Harry had always been the kind of person who wanted to fix things, make everything better, but Hermione was sure that this was one time that he wouldn't be able to repair things with the wave of a wand. "I don't want to hurt you, but I thought it was better for you to find out now, than before you devote more of yourself to him."

Turning into her friend, Hermione let herself cry into Harry's shirt, feeling so small and helpless. His fingers ran through the tangles in her bedhead, working to soothe her. But, Hermione's mind wouldn't quit working, trying to resolve the two radically opposing sides that she was presented. She didn't know what to think, and feeling unsure of herself only made her feel worse than she already did.

She wanted to believe that there was some harmless reason for this, that Harry had been mistaken. That Rabastan wouldn't betray her like that. But one thing was certain - she wouldn't know what the _truth_ was until she talked to him.

* * *

After Harry left, Hermione had crept into her room and begin rifling through all of her papers until she finally found the police records that Harry had given her all those weeks ago. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she read through each page with concern in her heart, fearful for what she might find there.

She was relieved to learn that everything that Rabastan had told her was more or less the truth. He hadn't left out anything that he'd done to try and make himself seem better. He was mostly honest. What struck her was actually reading the witness's complaint, her heart clenching when she thought of the poor woman who feared for her life at Rabastan's hands.

More troubling was Rabastan's own interviews and outright refusals to speak about anything that happened. He'd fully taken advantage of his right to remain silent. All three of them, Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan, had stuck together, none of them ratting on each other, despite the witness's insistence that it was Rodolphus who was the ringleader of their operation.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she had sat on the bed, thinking over what Harry had said, but it seemed as if someone was knocking on her door again within minutes. Glancing at her clock, she knew that it was Rabastan this time, coming over for their date.

Reluctantly, she stood from her bed and went and answered the door. Rabastan _immediately_ looked concerned when he took in her appearance. Hermione blushed realizing that she'd never actually gotten out of her pajamas for the day. "Babe, is everything okay?" he pressed, stepping inside and pulling her into an affectionate hug. "You look like you've been crying."

Swallowing thickly, Hermione knew that she had to confront Rabastan with what she knew. She couldn't just sweep this under the rug. "I _have_ been crying, Rab," she answered, looking up at him with a serious face. "Harry came to see me this morning, and well...he told me some news that upset me very much."

"What happened?" Rabastan wondered, his eyes moving back and forth, almost as if he were scanning her for a physical injury.

"He was at your bar last night," she said, spinning away from him, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him in that moment. She couldn't rectify the two opposing sides to Rabastan that she knew about at the moment. "And he told me about what you were _planning_ with your brother."

Turning back to face him, Rabastan didn't appear upset, just stunned, that she knew that he'd been meeting with his brother. She knew that she should be grateful that he wasn't trying to lie to her, but he wasn't trying to explain anything to her either. "I thought you said that Rodolphus was your past, Rabastan," she begged, pleading with him to tell her that Harry was mistaken.

"It's just - it's not like I went looking for him," Rabastan insisted. "Rodolphus came to me. He wouldn't stop tracking me down, he was relentless. It's just this _one time_ and then I am _done_ Hermione."

"How do you know that?" she cried, hating that she wasn't able to control her emotions when she was trying to have a rational conversation with him. "What's going to happen the next time, when he tracks you down again, and he's relentless again, and he convinces you just one more job, hm?"

"You can't possibly understand, Hermione," he said, his voice arrogant and annoyed that she would question him. He stepped forward, cupping her cheek gently, trying to wipe away the tears on her cheek. "Do you know what he'd do to you if I didn't agree? I can't bear the thought that something might happen to you."

Hermione shook her head back and forth. "No, you don't get to do that to me," she countered, angerly. "You don't get to use _me_ to justify a strong arm robbery. There are _options_ , Rabastan."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Go to the _police,_ " Hermione insisted, pressing her hands to her hips, wishing that her bossy manner could work on him for once. "Tip them off about what's going to happen and let Bellatrix and Rodolphus get what they deserve."

"I-I can't Hermione," Rabastan spluttered, looking down. "You don't understand. I can't just snitch on them. They are my _family_. We lookout for one another."

"You know, I read your arrest record," she said, quietly, dropping her gaze down to her feet, unable to look at him.

Rabastan stilled. "How did you get that?" he questioned, his voice deadly quiet.

"It's publicly available information," she snapped back, before guiltily outing her source. "Harry gave it to me weeks ago. But I only just looked at it today. And do you want to know what I noticed?" she questioned.

"What?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Hermione let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding. "That you really stepped up for your brother. If you would have _just_ talked to the police about what happened, you probably wouldn't have gone to jail for ten years. You probably wouldn't have _wasted_ the majority of your adult life behind bars!"

Rabastan sneered at her. "I'm sorry that you consider my life wasted because I wasn't out getting some poncy degree!"

"That's not what I meant and you know-"

He was already talking over her. "Well, here's something that you _don't_ learn at university, Hermione. Where I am from, you _don't_ talk to the police and you certainly don't turn on your own _brother_. Because that's what will get you killed where I am from," he seethed, breathing heavily. "Rodolphus and I are family. We had to stick together. Now, I will do this one last job for him, and then he _knows_ that he has to let me move on."

Hermione blinked back her tears, wishing that Rabastan could see everything from her perspective. "You keep saying that you and Rodolphus look out for one another," she said simply. "But ask yourself this: when was the last time that Rodolphus looked out for _your_ best interests?"

Knowing that the argument had run its course, Hermione turned away from him, unable to look at his handsome face - the face that she loved - any longer, knowing what kind of man he was proving to be. "Don't come back here until you have an answer to that question."

By the time she returned to her room, Rabastan had already stormed out of her flat, slamming the front door in frustration.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! I know the last chapter has us on the edge of our seats, so I will just throw us into this one. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter thirteen and be on the lookout for chapter fourteen soon!

* * *

Rabastan hadn't been sleeping well since he had his argument with Hermione. Every night that he climbed into bed, his mind would race, thinking over everything that she'd said to him. His stomach was sent to churning with nerves and fear, upset with himself that Hermione had found out about what his brother was trying to rope him into in the first place.

He cursed that fucking Harry Potter and his big fucking ears for coming into the _one_ bar that he had no business being at, and being there at the absolutely worst fucking time. Mostly, though, Rabastan knew that he had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who agreed to Rodolphus's plans, after all.

Didn't she see that he didn't want anything to do with his brother? Didn't she understand that the only reason he'd gone along with it in the first place was to keep her safe?

Of course, she didn't.

It made him angry that she couldn't try to see things from his perspective. Her life was easy, simple, with none of the baggage that his background carried. She didn't understand what it meant to be a snitch, what kind of people that he was involved with, and what would happen if he didn't just go along with them. He no longer had just himself to think about.

He didn't have the easiest childhood. His mother had left them when he was still just a child, not even off to primary school yet, and left him and his brother to their father. Their father had been a rich man at one point but had squandered it all on alcohol and gambling. That had left Rabastan and Rodolphus to their own devices.

Rodolphus had not been that nice brother, always looking out for his little tagalong kid brother. He'd been nearly ten years older and the last thing that he wanted was a child to look after. That was until Rabastan slowly became useful to him.

First it had started out slow. A tiny body could jimmy itself into places that a teenager could not, and Rabastan became very good at climbing through narrow windows, only to turn around and let his brother in. He would have done anything to just have someone pay attention to him that he was happy to do as Dolph said, even though he always knew it was wrong.

By the time Rabastan was a teenager, he'd been a full member of the little motorcycle gang Dolph had joined. He wasn't proud of it, but he did as he was told and was mostly respected. That was until he'd gone to jail, of course.

He'd made a promise to himself that he was done chasing after Rodolphus, wanting to actually live his life instead of being kept behind bars as a dangerous criminal. He'd done the right thing, kept his mouth shut, and look where it had got him. He was over thirty and could barely look after himself.

But, now, could he really tell his brother no? Rodolphus was literally the only family that he had left in his life. Who could he count on if not his brother?

Hermione's words kept haunting his brain, though, as he was forced to recognize what had been staring in his face his whole life. Rodolphus would never do anything for _his_ benefit. Dolph was selfish and only looked out for himself. He'd let Rabastan take a fall for ten year, just to save himself extra years. But it wouldn't be the same if it had gone the other way, would it? Rabastan was certain his brother would sell him out if it meant he walked free. Fuck, he was sure he wouldn't even try to protect Bellatrix if Dolph had to make that choice.

Shaking his head, Rabastan knew that there was no point in agonizing over this now. He'd already agreed to the plans and he knew that they wouldn't take no for an answer at this point. If he wanted to keep Hermione safe, he'd have to go through with it. Then, he'd tell them that he was finished.

If Hermione would ever speak to him was another story, but he knew that was an issue for another day.

* * *

The morning of the planned robbery, Bellatrix and Rodolphus came over to his flat to make sure that he was still on board. He'd dressed for it, keeping a bandana tied around his neck so he'd be able to conceal his face when the time called for it, and they'd seemed pleased to see him all in on it.

Rabastan frowned when he noticed the white powder clinging to Rodolphus's mustache and wanted to say something. He never had a reliable temper to begin with, but coked up, he was downright volatile. "Are you sure that was a good idea?" Rabastan questioned, pressing his finger at the space between his nose and upper lip.

Rodolphus wiped at his face with his sleeve, not bothering to hide his anger. "Mind your own fucking business, Rabastan," he groused. "You know what you need to do, right?"

He nodded in agreement. "Of course, I already found the car I'm going to take," Rabastan said. He'd been around the block where the house stood a few times earlier in the week and he knew which one he was going to take. And older model Volkswagen that should be easy to hotwire, not like these new cars that had all kind of anti-theft deterrents built-in. Of course, it wouldn't be the nicest ride he'd had before, but it would get the job done.

"And you know to be waiting in the alley at ten o'clock sharp?" Bellatrix tittered about. "You _cannot_ be late."

Rabastan scoffed. "Yes, of course Bella," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Haven't I always done my part?" he prodded further.

Bellatrix smiled at him fondly, pinching his cheek. "Yes, little Rabby," she cooed in the baby voice that still made his hair stand on end. "I just knew that we could count on family." Patting him against his cheek, she gave him a self-satisfied smile, knowing that she'd gotten her way. "Don't worry, you can crawl back to your little slut when we're done."

"Maybe take her somewhere nice with the money you'll get," Rodolphus added with a smirk. "That _is_ if you've managed to fuck her yet," he added with a roll of his eyes, clearly discounting his younger brother. "I know how those goody two-shoes are."

Rabastan had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to not snap back to the pair about Hermione, about how she wasn't a slut and how they shouldn't speak of her that way. The less that they thought he cared about her, the better. It wouldn't do for them to think that they could hold her over him again. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. "Might just fix up my bike," he said casually.

Rodolphus gave him a knowing smirk. "Knew you couldn't seal the deal, Rabby," he teased. "Alright, I think we've fucked around her long enough. Let's move," he ordered his wife and brother before heading towards the door.

Bellatrix gave him a penetrating look, perhaps seeing through his lie. "Are you sure you don't need us to help you with the car?" she pressed. "Because you _better_ be there."

"Fuck Bella, have I messed up yet?" he practically snarled, wanting his day to be over as quickly as possible. Not waiting for her to answer, he put his hands on her shoulders to steer her towards the door. Locking the door behind him, he took a deep breath and hoped that he was making the right decision.

Once they were out on the street, the trio went their separate ways, with Rabastan headed towards the Tube station to get cross town to where they were meeting. His oyster card felt heavy in his hand when he remembered how Hermione had helped him get his, even loaning him the money to buy his first few rides. It felt gross to use the same one to help himself commit a crime.

By the time that he got back out on street level, he navigated the roads with practiced ease, remembering where the car was. It didn't take him long to jimmy the door open, using a thin, metal blade to slip between the window and the rubber strip. Slipping inside the car, Rabastan took a deep breath, looking around to see if anyone had noticed him.

The street was empty for the night, with cheery lights left in only a few of the residential windows. Glad that he hadn't been detected, he reached under the dash to find the wires that would start the car. It took him a few tries, but he eventually got it going.

Easing the car out into the middle of the street, Rabastan felt the adrenaline begin to kick in. With white knuckles on the steering wheel, he couldn't stop himself from looking in the rearview, paranoid and positive that someone was going to find him. In his gut he knew that this wasn't worth it, but he felt as if he was in too deep.

The alley that he'd been instructed to drive down was easy enough for him to find, and he was sure that he could have done it in his sleep, but as the car rolled closer towards its destination, Rabastan felt himself slowing down. Hermione's words echoed in his mind and how easy she had made it seem. Saying no to his brother.

Noticing movement up ahead, Rabastan peered down the alley, until his headlights reflected on the bright white of a police car, with bobbies already in position. His eyes widening in concern, he knew that this was his chance to get away. He could try to get to his brother and Bellatrix before they broke in and warn them about the police, or he could let the men do what they had came to do.

He would have to make the decision between his family and himself.

Slowing to a halt, one of the police officers jogged over to the beat up Volkswagen. Rabastan stared at the man with wide eyes, hoping that he didn't realize that Rabastan was implicated in the crime that they were waiting for. The man looked into the car for a moment, before wrapping his knuckles on the hood of the Volkswagen and twisting his finger in the air, instructing him to leave the scene.

Feeling his heart thundering against his chest, Rabastan did not need to be told twice. He didn't believe in a god, but this sure seemed like a divine intervention. Backing up out of the alleyway, Rabastan turned back out onto the street, letting go of a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding.

He drove back towards the street where he'd gotten the car and returned it to it's parking spot. Pulling off his bandana, he wiped the steering wheel for fingerprints on the off chance that the theft was discovered, before walking back to the Tube.

With shock he realized that he was crying. He needed someone to talk to. And there was only one person that he could think of.

* * *

Hermione was woken up by the persistent ringing of her cell phone.

Rubbing her hands against her eyes, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness. It took her a moment to remember that she wasn't in her own bed, but rather in one of the many guest rooms at Grimmauld Place. Ever since her fight with Rabastan, Hermione had felt way too raw to chance running into him.

She'd called Harry and he'd arranged for her to stay with his godfather, Sirius Black. So far, he'd been a great host, leaving her to her own devices, but also offering her scotch that was worth more than she knew when she would tear up occasionally in the parlor. Mostly, he'd left her to her own devices, provided that she continued to eat.

He didn't ask about what had happened, and Hermione wondered if Harry had even tried explaining the situation with Rabastan to him. Sirius had always had a special spot in his heart for her, but even Hermione realized that even Sirius probably wouldn't like the idea of her dating a felon.

Her phone rang again, and she looked at the green display blearily. Not recognizing the number, Hermione wondered just who could be calling her at this time of night. "Hello?" she answered, hearing the sleep in her voice.

"Hermione?" Rabastan's voice came through, crackling.

"Rabastan?" she asked, even though she knew she should still be mad at him. "Is everything alright?"

"Fuck, everything's going to shit, Hermione and I just-" he paused for a moment. "I really need someone to talk to, and well...will you hear me out?" he asked.

Hermione took a deep breath, considering his words. She had told him not to call her until he was going to choose himself, but she didn't know if he'd done that. But whatever it was must be serious, because despite giving him her phone number months ago, this was only the first time he was _actually_ calling her. "What happened?" she asked, wetting her lips, wondering if she was just setting herself up to be hurt again.

"Tonight was the night," he said, all in a rush. "I went along with them, and I stole a fucking car, but when I got to the meeting point, I just knew that I didn't want to do it."

She felt as if she'd been kicked in the gut when he casually mentioned stealing a car, but tried not to judge him outright. "Go on," she pressed, wondering what he'd ended up doing.

In her mind's eye, she could imagine him leaning with his back against a wall, cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth while he ran a hand through his hair, anxious. "It felt like it was too late to back out. I kept thinking over what you told me, Hermione. About Rodolphus never doing anything for me, and ... fuck, of course you are right. He's never looked out for me once."

Hermione could feel tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, her heart filled up with hope. She hoped that her words had made him think twice over his choices, as she'd been so impressed with his progress since getting out, and she hated the idea that it could all come crumbling down the minute Rodolphus bent his finger. "I'm glad you realized that," she choked out, hoping that he couldn't hear her crying. "What-what happened?"

"I was driving down the alley, and well, the police were _already there_ ," he whispered, still unbelieving of his luck. "They saw me and didn't even question why I'd be there. The policeman he looked right at me, and just motioned for me to leave. So I left them," he told her with disbelief in his voice.

"That's-that's so lucky, Rabastan," Hermione said, her mind racing over his words.

"Bella and Dolph, they are going to come running out of that fucking house, expecting to find me waiting, but they'll run right into the police," he said, almost starting to hyperventilate. "It's not going to take them long to realize that...that I'm not there with them. I'll...fuck, they'll think that I ratted them out to the police."

Hermione could tell that he was growing increasingly agitated and sought to calm him down. "Rabastan, take a deep breath," she instructed, already getting up out of bed and pulling her jeans on. "It's no good thinking of possibilities. Take things one step at a time."

"It's hard not to jump to the worst conclusion," Rabastan said darkly. "I _know_ what they are capable, and I just...I wanted to keep you safe," he said, sounding miserable.

"Rabastan, where are you?" Hermione asked, pulling on her trainers and her jacket, not bothering to change out of her pajama top. Even though they were fighting, she knew that he needed her right now, and she wasn't about to turn her back on him when he was feeling so vulnerable.

"Home. I tried knocking on your door, but you weren't there," he answered, curtly, though he didn't sound accusatory.

"I'm...at a friend's," she revealed, biting her lower lip. She wondered what he would think if he knew that she'd left because seeing him had hurt her too much. "But, don't worry, I'll come home right now," she promised.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Hermione, I shouldn't have called you," he said, sounding extremely sorry for himself. "I just, I really needed to talk to someone. Well, not talk to _someone._ I needed to hear your voice," he revealed quietly.

"It's okay," she answered, touched that he would think of her first, when the week prior he'd implied that she didn't understand him at all. "I'll be there in just a little bit, and then we can talk as long as you need to."

"I just...I don't know what I'm meant to do now," he told her, his voice helpless and small, reminding her of how he must have sounded when he was just a teenager, arrested for attempted murder. If she had _anything_ to say about it, she wasn't about to let him take a fall for something that he didn't do.

Glad that he couldn't see her half-smile through the phone, in case he were to misinterpret it, Hermione left Grimmauld Place in a flurry. "We can figure that out together," she told him, firmly. "I'll see you in less than twenty minutes."

Ending the call, Hermione practically sprinted to the Tube stop, hoping that she could catch the last train. She would feel better when she could finally look Rabastan over.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows! A slight preface to this chapter that I certainly do not claim to know everything about the criminal law/trial process, so take it with a grain of salt. Only one chapter left after this one. You can follow me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions!

Please let me know what you thought of chapter fourteen and be on the lookout for chapter fifteen soon!

* * *

Hermione had gotten across London in record time, though it felt as if it had taken hours. When she finally found him, he was sitting out in his back garden, chain smoking furiously in the spitting rain.

It was almost as if he hadn't seen her at first, as he nearly jumped out of his skin when she pressed her hand to his shoulder. "Rabastan," she said softly, before sitting down on the retaining wall next to him. With a sigh, she dropped her head against his leather covered shoulder.

"Hermione," he answered, breathing out her name as if it was the oxygen he survived on. "I fucked up, didn't I?" he asked, before wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling him into his warmth.

"You did," Hermione confirmed, biting at her lower lip. Even though he hadn't been caught, she pretty much didn't see a way that he was going to be getting out of this.

Kicking his leg back against the brickwork of the wall they were sitting on, Rabastan swore loudly. "God, I wish I hadn't listened to them," he said, sadly, pressing his hand across his eyes. Hermione wondered briefly if he were truly crying.

"It's...nothing you've done can't be fixed," she promised, letting her words sink in for a moment. They could fix it, he could get back on top of this. It was just a momentary slip up in his otherwise good behavior after prison, and she was sure that they could figure it out. "But, we won't solve anything sitting out here in the rain. Let's go inside, and I'll make some coffee."

Rabastan nodded, letting her herd him inside where it was warm. Hermione blushed, remembering the last time that they'd been caught out in the rain, how they'd been so eager to get one another down to nothing and how passionately they'd fucked in her bed. It was so different to now. Rabastan didn't look the picture of confidence that he had before, instead looking broken.

She found his coffee grounds easily enough once they were inside his flat, while Rabastan sat slumped at the table, unable to meet her eyes. Bustling around, she added some more food to Salazar's bowl, even though the charcoal gray cat was far too caught up in his human's sadness to want food at the moment. When the coffee went, she poured them each a mug, sliding one into Rabastan's waiting hands.

"Alright, why don't you start from the beginning," she said, looking him up and down. His normally mischief-filled green eyes looked hollow and far off, but at least he was looking at her again.

With a dispassionate voice, he told Hermione _everything_ , from the very beginning - the day at the grocery store. He told her about all of their planning, and how they had threatened her if he didn't agree to work with him, and how he had thought that this would be his last job. "You have to believe me, I wouldn't have done it if they hadn't brought you into it," he swore up and down.

Hermione bit her lower lip, not sure of what to believe. "Are you sure that the money didn't tempt you _at all_?" she asked, feeling guilty. "That's certainly a lot of money."

He shook his head no, resolutely. "It _is_ a lot of money, but I was enjoying earning money with my own two hands. I didn't want it, not really, but I haggled with them in the hopes that they would think I wasn't worth it."

After he told her all of the lead up, he explained again what had happened that night, how he was ready to go through with the whole plot, even stealing a car in the process. He told her about the nearly divine intervention from the waiting police officers, and how he'd done nothing to try to tip off his brother and sister-in-law. "I just walked away," he said, sounding miserable, before dropping his head to his hands. "I don't know _what_ to do, Hermione."

She swallowed thickly, know that there was only one thing he could do. "I think it's rather obvious what you need to do, Rabastan, but I don't think that you are going to like it," she explained, waiting for him to look her in the eyes. "You need to go to the police."

Rabastan made a noise of disagreement, hardwired to mistrust the police. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Hermione," he argued, thinking that it was a good way to get himself in trouble. "I mean, they don't know that I'm involved at all, and well, I don't want to draw undue attention to myself."

Hermione reached across the table and took hold of his cold hand, lacing her fingers through his while she thought about how she wanted to form her argument. "How long are the police _not_ going to know about your involvement? How long before your brother tells them about what happened? You've said it yourself - he is going to be pissed when he realizes that you weren't there."

He looked like a child who had been caught trying to take cookies out from the cookie jar. "Yeah, I dunno what he will do," Rabastan agreed, running a hand down his face.

"I know that you've been taught a code...where you don't rat on each other, but Rabastan, that code has _only_ hurt you," Hermione reasoned, hoping that he wouldn't take what she was saying the wrong way. "I think that Rodolphus is going to do whatever he can to get out from under this, even if it means throwing you under the bus."

Rabastan winced, but nodded in agreement. "I think you might be right," he said, his hand clenching in a fist. "Rodolphus has only ever been interested in himself. And he didn't care when I said I didn't want to do it. But the police...I don't know, Hermione. It might be better to just say nothing, keep my head down."

She licked her lips, knowing how terrible that idea must seem to him. "I know it goes against everything that you know," Hermione said finally. "But they really do appreciate it if you come forward first, instead of having to track you down. Tell them your side of the story, be honest, and I think they will understand."

"I just, I don't know if I can testify against them," Rabastan said, his shoulders slumped, already thinking several steps ahead of himself. "Facing Dolph in court, it's too much..."

"One step at a time, remember?" Hermione said, giving his arm a squeeze. "Maybe they won't even need you to testify at all. But you don't want Rodolphus muddying the waters and telling them something that isn't true. And if you do have to testify, I promise that I'll be in the courtroom with you."

Rabastan took a deep breath, thinking over everything she said, before giving a sullen nod. "Alright, I'll...I'll fucking do it," he said, though it was clear that he was still not enthused by the idea. "What's...how do I...do you think I just go down to the station and turn myself in?" he questioned.

"Let's reach out to your parole officer," Hermione said, proud that he was going against his instincts. "You _are_ doing the right thing, Rabastan," she told him, unable to hide the smile from her face. "Come on, let's get you in bed so that you can get some rest. We'll go first thing in the morning."

"You'll go with me?" he asked, sounding hopeful and boyish, looking up at her like he almost couldn't believe that she was real.

Hermione nodded eagerly. She had been so upset and angry at him when he'd brushed her concerns aside. She knew that she should still be angry at him because he almost went through with his brother's plan to rob someone, but she couldn't be. He had been right - he had lived a completely different lifestyle from her, and she couldn't understand what it must have been like to grow up with Rodolphus as a brother, or the consequences of doing something the wrong way. It wasn't like having your friends stop talking to you. It could mean actual physical violence.

So she could understand why he was looking so adrift at the moment, when agreeing to go to the police was the last thing he ever would have done. But, if he was serious about turning a new leaf, this is how he would have to do it. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, Hermione gave him an affirmative nod. "Of course, I'll even go to court with you if it gets to that."

* * *

Stepping out of the courtroom, Rabastan loosened the tie at his neck. Hermione had helped him pick out his attire for the court, telling him that the judge wouldn't take him seriously if he rolled up in his trusty leather jacket and jeans. It felt inauthentic to wear smart trousers and a tie, but he'd been able to see just how favorably the judge responded to it.

Several weeks ago, when he'd arranged to meet up with his parole officer, and he revealed the full sordid story of what had happened with Rabastan and Bellatrix, he had thought that he was making the worst decision of his life. He couldn't imagine it turning out the way that it had.

His parole officer had been suitable annoyed with Rabastan for ever agreeing to speak with his brother again, chiding him. The only way he'd gotten through it was Hermione's tiny hand tucked in his. Then, when they'd all went down to the police station together, he'd had to be separated from her and he felt all of his nerves come back. If it wasn't for her hesitant smile and promise that he was doing the right thing, he didn't know if he would have ever gone through with it.

Hermione had been endless help throughout the whole process. She hadn't said anything when he cried to her, telling her that Rodolphus really had already tried to put it all on him and Bellatrix, just held him and let him get the words out. She'd managed to find a lawyer to represent _his_ best interests, using her connections at the University. He knew he would have been fucked if it hadn't been the for the man who'd agreed to take his case pro bono.

But the hardest part had been having to face Rodolphus and Bellatrix in court, where they had strong-armed him into testifying. It felt as if his heart was being squeezed by a vice when he met his big brother's seething eyes across the room, but he knew that he had to do what was right for himself, once in his life.

He'd stumbled over his words at first, feeling the glare intensify as he told the honest truth to the judge. But then, he'd looked _past_ Rodolphus and saw Hermione sitting there in the row behind him, beautiful and untouched, and he knew that the only way to protect Hermione was to make sure his brother went back to prison once again. Seeing how fucking _proud_ she looked had only steeled Rabastan's resolve, and he could feel himself coming more confident as the whole story came tumbling out.

And now...well, all of it paid off.

Walking out of the courtroom, Rabastan was pleased to say that his brother and sister-in-law weren't likely to get out of prison any time soon, having each been sentenced to thirty years a piece. This time, it hadn't been a knife, it had been a gun, and Rodolphus had (unfortunately for him) gone off the rails this time and shot an undercover police officer in the side. Personally, Rabastan thought it was a bit of a stretch to call it attempted murder, but he wasn't about to complain about it.

Taking a deep breath when he finally got out into the fresh air, his eyes were immediately drawn to Hermione again, dressed up in a camel colored skirt and cream colored blouse. She looked so beautiful and he knew he was lucky to have her in his life at all; he just prefered it when she wore jeans and too-big sweaters. She was standing with his lawyer and the police officer that had handled him since he turned himself over to their mercy.

"Congratulations, Mr. Lestrange," the police officer said, tipping his head to the other man. "We thank you again for your assistance in securing a conviction for the two individuals."

He gave a brief smile, unable to believe that it had actually worked out. "I'm happy to help," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, still feeling as if his life hadn't rebalanced yet. "I am glad that my brother finally got what he deserved."

"I've just come from chatting with the prosecutors and they've agreed with me," the police officer said, gruffly. "Because of the assistance that you've given us in this particular case, they've decided not to pursue the case against you for your participation."

"Do you understand what this means, Rabastan?" his lawyer asked, barely able to hide the grin from his face at looking at Rabastan's dumbfounded look. "There is no jail time for you on this one. You've dodged a massive bullet. Your life is yours again."

Hermione smiled up at him, her look blinding in the sunlight. She was so _beautiful_ that it hurt sometimes. He wondered just how he'd managed to find her. How lucky he'd been when she'd knocked on his door all those months ago. He had thought that he'd hit the jackpot and had sex only on his mind, but she'd proved to be invaluable to him in the interim. "I knew that it would work out for you, Rab," she said giving his arm a squeeze.

"Really? It's done? I'm good?" he asked, feeling far too stunned to believe the trios words. Good things didn't happen to snitches where he came from, and he found it hard to believe that it had actually paid off for him this time, despite Hermione's promises that it would work out.

"Well, you'll have a some additional hours of community service," the lawyer said with a shrug. "And, they would like you to try not to associate with any known felons, your family included, but yes, they've agreed not to pursue charges in thanks for your cooperation. A fair compromise, I think."

Hermione, suddenly not caring about the propriety of it anymore, launched herself into Rabastan's arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. "It's over," she repeated again and again, until the message finally could sink in for him. Rabastan returned the hug enthusiastically, before grabbing Hermione by the chin to tilt her face up to look at him. Leaning down, he caught her in a passionate kiss, one that had his lawyer blushing in surprise.

When the finally broke apart - having kissed a bit _longer_ than was considered socially appropriate - he smirked at the other two men. "Apologies, but I think my _girlfriend_ and I are going to go celebrate the good news," he said, grabbing Hermione around the waist, uncaring if they thought he was a possessive neanderthal. Hermione didn't seem to mind.

They were barely able to keep their hands off of one another the whole tube ride home, and Rabastan knew that they were attracting more than their fair share of attention. He was too wrapped up in Hermione, in what she represented, to care what anyone thought of him. He stopped to kiss her several times on the short walk from the station back to her flat, but she eventually became fed up, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him inside.

"I wasn't sure, but I got some champagne to celebrate," Hermione whispered, pressing up onto her tiptoes to reward him with a tiny kiss, before slipping into the kitchen. There had been an unspoken cloud over their relationship these past weeks, unsure if Rabastan would be sent back to prison despite his testimony. When she returned, she pressed a glass of the bubbly liquid into his hands. "Cheers!"

The clinked glasses together, toasting to the occasion, before retiring back into her living room. Hermione kicked off her high heeled shoes, curling around his body, and Rabastan stripped off his button down shirt, leaving him in his comfortable white undershirt.

He was suddenly struck by just how welcoming Hermione's flat seemed. Rabastan felt more at home here than he ever had in his neighborhood. Like he belonged there. Really, he didn't understand why he felt so at ease, so _himself_ , when he was with her, but he did. Like he could finally breathe easy.

He let his fingers tangle in her hair, turning her head so that she would look at him. "So, am I completely forgiven?" he asked, knowing how much their relationship had suffered from agreeing to work with his brother. He never wanted to chance losing Hermione again. She meant more to him than anything in the world.

Hermione grinned at him, catching his lips in a kiss once again, playfully nipping at his lower lip. "Hm, I suppose you are forgiven, but only so long as you promise to _never_ do anything like that again," she said cheerfully. "I couldn't stand it if you had to go back to jail."

"I swear it, Hermione," he said looking her dead in the eyes. Nothing could even tempt him away from her, not when he... "I love you, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize that."

Her eyes widened at his sudden confession, but he cut her off with a kiss, pressing her back against the couch before she could respond. She eagerly responded to him, deepening the kiss with a moan, before breaking apart. "I love you, too," she said, before pulling him back down against her.

All thoughts of champagne were left floating away in their glasses. Rabastan was too busy making love to her right there on the couch to care about anything else.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows on this story! This one came from a tumblr prompt from kristeristerin, and I can't believe it morphed into this story. I really hope that you enjoy how it ends! You can follow me over on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions. If you like my writing, I do have a Daphne x Theo story going right now called Whistle For the Choir. I will be posting some Theo x Hermione in a few weeks, though, too!

Please let me know what you thought of the story!

* * *

 _One Year Later._

Hermione sighed as she walked back up the street towards her flat, eager to get home for the night. Her book bag was really growing much too heavy ever since she started her law degree. She'd thought that she'd had to do a lot of reading for her history degree, but really, the law school took things to a whole new level.

Rolling her head side to side, she was ready to just have a relaxing evening after spending her whole Saturday in the library, but knew that she'd promised her friends that she would go out for a change. Really, she didn't want to be a _total_ hermit, just because she was still full into schooling, while most of her friends had moved on to their careers.

Turning the corner, Hermione's attention was grabbed by the little 'for let' sign that was once again posted in her front garden, advertising the garden level flat that had once been occupied by Rabastan, but had remained empty for the past six months or so. She wondered how long it would remain empty for Hagrid this time, and if the next neighbor would change her life as much as her former neighbor had.

Putting her key into the lock of her front door, Hermione happily deposited her book bag onto the bench that sat in her foyer, her progress impeded by a happy cat running between her legs, pressing his face against her calves, eager to be greeted.

"Well hello to you, too," she said, picking the cat up in her arms as if he was a baby doll and giving him belly pets. "Did you have a good day to yourself?" she asked, knowing that the cat wasn't going to answer, but unable to break the habit all the same.

Dropping the cat back down to its' feet, Hermione walked towards the kitchen, the cat hot on her heels. As soon as she entered into the kitchen, she smiled, seeing bolognese left in the pot in a lazy simmer, with bubbles slowly rising to the top.

"You've got to help me," Hermione said in a done up voice. "There is a terrible beast called Salazar who won't leave me be," she teased, looking down at the gray cat who'd been waiting for her at the door, flopping to his side, waiting for _more_ pets and scratches. Crookshanks watched from his favorite spot in the window with disinterest.

Rabastan made a show of grabbing her and pulling her behind his back. "Never fear, babe - I can keep you safe from this greedy little blighter!" he responded.

Salazar just meowed up at the young couple in absolute contempt.

Spinning around, Rabastan pulled Hermione into a hug before picking her up by the waist, and setting her on the counter. He settled between her legs and pressed his mouth against hers in a sweet kiss. "My hero," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "How was work today?" she asked.

Ever since Rabastan had his little run in with the law, he'd begun a dual program of formal education and hands-on experience to become a certified mechanic. He still had a few months of formal training remaining, but Hermione was impressed to see how much he was taking to it. He would frequently explain different parts of the mechanics of motorcycles to her, and even though she didn't particularly _understand_ all of what he was saying, she loved watching him come alive when he was able to do something that he actually enjoyed doing. Even if that meant that his hands were stained more often than not.

He'd told her once, when they'd just moved in together after his own lease was up, as he held her body against his, about how she was the first person to expect anything of him. He finally opened up to her about his home life with Rodolphus and how their relationship was built around Rabastan just wanting someone to _fucking_ notice him for once. How he'd do anything to just be praised for once. Becoming a mechanic meant that he was doing something for _himself_ and himself alone.

And by all accounts, he was excellent at it. His boss, a short man with a bushy mustache, had told Hermione about it one year when she stopped by the shop once. The man looked at her with a confused look, as if to wonder just what the hell a girl _like_ _her_ was doing with a former felon, but he was keen to sing Rabastan's praises nonetheless.

The shop owner's reaction to their relationship was quite typical. After everything that had happened, Hermione's friends were _extremely_ reluctant to give Rabastan another chance. Ultimately, it had been Luna Lovegood who had knocked enough sense into everyone. "Don't you know that Hermione's going to date him, even if we don't give him our approval? She's forgiven him, so why shouldn't we?" she asked, with that dreamy smile on her face. "Besides, they've absolutely smitten with one another. Just watch how he looks at her."

It had been an uncomfortable deeper look into their relationship, but Hermione was ultimately glad for Luna's intervention. Of course, her friend was right that she wasn't going to base her relationship decisions on what her friends thought of her boyfriend, she was glad that everyone could get along. It had taken a few weeks, but things quickly got back to normal. Ron and Harry had even brought Rabastan to watch a football match not too long ago, and he was going to Harry's stag do.

Despite being ten years apart in age, having spent most of his adult life in prison, Rabastan was just happy to go experience adulthood.

That wasn't to say that Hermione and Rabastan's relationship was _all_ sunshine and rainbows. Of course they had their ups and downs, and their share of fights, especially when Rabastan would really get far too possessive for his own good. And, despite her best efforts to be understanding about some of the idiosyncrasies of Rabastsan's, there were some things that he did that she just couldn't get. It would take time for them to adjust to one another, but with a focus on open conversations, they always forgave each other at the end of the day.

And the make up sex wasn't terrible either.

Blinking, Hermione realized that Rabastan had gone fully into a discussion of how he'd begun work rebuilding an engine that day, including all the little intricacies of how he'd found the perfect screw length, and she felt her heart melt. She wondered how her life had been so completely turned upside down by this man, all teenager eagerness and oversexed masculinity. She remembered how Harry had once mentioned that she didn't seem the kind of person who would go for Rabastan's _type_ , but now he was so irresistible to her. Tattoos and all.

Holding out a spoon for her, he indicated for Hermione to taste the sauce. "Open up, I want you to taste this," he instructed.

Hermione gratefully did as she was bid, trying his newest iteration of bolognese. Although he still enjoyed frozen pizza culinary skills, Rabastan was always game to try and ferret out the secret of Zabini's bolognese sauce, but had so far been unsuccessful. "Mm, it's good," she told him. "Your best yet. What's the secret?" she asked.

"Hint of nutmeg," he told her, eyebrows furrowed as he tried it himself. "I want to perfect it before your parents come to visit for Christmas."

Her parents, once perfectly content to remain in Australia, had suddenly become far more interested in their daughter's life once she told them that she'd asked her new boyfriend to move in with her. She hadn't shared very many details about him with her parents, worried that they would disapprove. They had immediately planned a trip home, wanting to ensure that their little girl was going to be safe with this new boyfriend.

To say that their first meeting had gone poorly was an understatement. Rabastan, having a massive chip on his shoulder, had been positive that they would hate him and then Hermione would want to leave him. After all, no man wished that his daughter would date a former convict, let alone someone who'd been arrested for attempted murder.

And, Rabastan had been right. Mr. and Mrs. Granger took one look at his tattooed hands and leather jacket swagger and insisted that Hermione break up with them.

Unfortunately for the other three, Hermione was stubborn. She wanted their meeting to go well _and_ to get her parents approval. She told them in no uncertain terms that she hadn't been sure about Rabastan initially either, but since she'd gotten to know him, she knew that she wanted to be with him. That she loved him and she wasn't going to dump him just because her parents - who were just now visiting her for the first time in four years - told her to.

Bolstered by Hermione's passionate defense of him, Rabastan felt that he could relax a bit more around the Grangers. Without a wall up around them, they slowly got to know him a bit better by the end of the trip. He'd impressed them with his work ethic, and by the end of the week, Mr. Granger was even joining Rabastan in the back garden to watch him work on his motorcycle.

They'd left commenting that Rabastan was _not_ the man that they would have selected for their daughter, but it was clear that he loved Hermione. They trusted that she was in good hands, and had made plans to join the couple again at Christmas.

"Well, I'm sure my mother will fight you for the recipe, Rab," Hermione told him encouragingly from her perch on the countertop. "It's perfect." It was so cute how worried he was about making a good impression when he already had.

He helped her down off the counter before guiding her to the kitchen table so that they could eat lunch together. A bowl of pasta in front of her, Hermione wished that she could just spend the rest of the night with Rabastan. Maybe she could convince him to join her in the bath.

It seemed as if Rabastan was having the same thoughts. "Are you sure we _have_ to go out tonight?" he questioned. "Ron's been especially moody since he broke up with that Lavender."

Hermione sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, yes," she told him with a half-smile. "I've promised Ginny that we wouldn't blow them off again this weekend, like we did last week. Which, if you will remember, was _your_ fault," she accused.

Rabastan looked mock hurt at her words. "What? How is it my fault that we blew them off?" he pressed, grabbing her leg under the table so that her tiny foot was cradled in his lap. Using his fingers, he gently massaged up the arch of her foot, turning Hermione into absolute putty under his hands. He gave her a cheeky grin.

"You know what you-" Hermione's words were cut off when his fingers had her seeing stars. "Rabastan, you remember what you did last weekend. I was all ready to go out and then you threw me over your shoulder and carried me back to bed!"

Her boyfriend didn't even look _mildly_ apologetic. "What did you expect me to do when you wore that grey dress?" he asked, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You clearly were looking to get fucked, and I merely delivered."

Hermione laughed, even though she knew she should scold him for being an absolute _scoundrel_. If there was one thing that never changed about Rabastan, it was that he was absolutely willing to shoot his shot, making it abundantly clear how physically attracted to her he was. When she'd first met him, she'd worried that he was just after any woman after being in jail for so long. She'd worried that he'd tire of her once he'd finally had her - that there were girls more his type and that she was merely forbidden fruit. After over a year of dating, she was pleased to note that he was always hungry for _her_ and her alone. He hadn't wavered once.

"I just don't see you couldn't have waited until _after_ we got home from the bar," Hermione scolded, though she didn't really mean it. It _had_ been an utterly enjoyable weekend.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Rabastan leaned back and made no secret the way that he was drinking in her form. "What will you give me if I agree to go out tonight?" he negotiated, even though he didn't really need to be convinced. They always had a good time out.

"If you go out with me, I will...I don't know, _try_ to learn to ride a motorcycle," she offered, knowing that he'd been dying to teach her for months. Despite her nerves, she was coming around to the idea. While she doubted that she would ever have her own motorcycle, she could see the _benefits_ that she'd have if she learned.

"That sounds amazing," he purred, leaning across the table to invade her personal space. "But, I had something a bit different in mind..." he trailed off, letting his fingers trail up the inside of her leg. "If I go out with you, promise that you'll sneak away from your friends with me and meet me in a bathroom for a special treat."

Hermione scrunched her nose. "A bathroom, really?" she asked, thinking that it sounded a bit cliche and a bit dirty.

Rabastan nodded. "Well, if I thought you'd agree to meet me in the coat room, I'd have suggested that, but I know how you'd feel about the potential audience," he said with a snort. "Though you know that I'd love to show everyone that you are mine."

Feeling a thrill zing up her spine at being called _his_ , Hermione tried not to show Rabastan how much the idea excited her, too. Biting her lower lip, she knew that it wasn't too much of a hardship to agree, but she didn't want to give the impression of giving in too quickly either. "Alright, but...just this once," she told him. "I agree."

He gave her a sexy little look and it was all Hermione could do not to blush. Letting go of her foot, Rabastan stood up from the table and began to clear it. "I love you, babe," he said tenderly.

"Oh, is that all you say? I agree to let you have your way with me in a men's room at some club and you just leave me here?" she pressed, feeling as though she should have been praised more for stepping out of her comfort zone.

Rabastan turned to look at her with absolute lust reflected in his sea-green eyes. "It's taking all I have in me not to change my mind right now and throw you over my shoulder again," he told her honestly. "Now go and get changed before I lose it."

Hermione laughed, amazed at how easily he'd slotted himself in her life, but she knew that she wouldn't have it anyway. Standing, she flounced out of the kitchen, only to grab the door frame on her way out. "You know I love you, too?" she asked, waiting for him to lock eyes with her again. "Who's to say we can't do both?" she questioned saucily.

He gave her a surprised look, before closing the gap between them. He picked her up easily, before pressing her over his shoulder and giving her a smack on the rump. "You asked for it, witch!" he teased her back, stalking off in the direction of their bedroom.

She laughed the whole way, excited for what the night - what life - had in store for the two of them.


End file.
